Turning Tables: Season Two
by Princess Pinky
Summary: Now that Adrian's had her baby, how would the second season had been different if Adrian had been the one struggling to adjust to new motherhood, instead of Amy?
1. The Big Wrong

**A/N: **Welcome back, readers! Is it time for season two already? :D Thanks for sticking with this story!

_**Turning Tables**_

**The Big Wrong**

"Mom, is that – _Ben!_"

Ben Boykewich was seated on the edge of Adrian Lee's bed, cradling a lavender bundle, Mercy Lee, against his chest. One hand supported the infant, while the other tilted a bottle into her tiny mouth. But at the sound of Adrian's screech, Ben bounded up and the bottle crashed to the floor.

"Adrian!" he yelped, as Mercy began a stormy fit. "I'm sorry!" He turned away, shielding his eyes from the Latina, who was only dressed in her untied bathrobe. "Your mom said I could come in and I-"

Adrian scrambled to tie her bathrobe and adjust her flopping hair. "It's alright, it's okay!" She scampered across the room, picking up the bottle from the floor and setting it on her desk, then she took a seat on the bed and patted the mattress, beckoning Ben to sit beside her.

"Sorry," he said again, barely audible over Mercy's cries.

Adrian took the baby from her father and pulled back a corner of her robe, pressing the babe to her chest to breast feed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ben struggling over whether or not to turn away. "It's nothing you haven't seen before, Ben."

"Yeah, but it just…feels wrong somehow." Still, he didn't take his eyes away. "Does it, uh, _hurt?_"

Adrian shook her head. "There's a pressure and a tickle…it's difficult to describe, but it doesn't hurt. Some women are more sensitive than others, though." She shrugged and readjusted her daughter.

"Don't you ever run out?"

"You're so naive, Ben. It's cute, if not slightly annoying. And yes, I do 'run out,' per se, but never permanently. The more she drinks, the more I make. Or the more my body thinks she drinks," she said, pointing to the breast pump on the changing table. "That's what's in the bottles," she said, noting the slightly disturbed look on Ben's face as he shot a sideways glance at the bottle that he'd been holding when she walked out of the bathroom. "What are you over here for anyway?" she asked. "Don't you have finals this week?"

Ben nodded. "Yeah, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Do you have a passport?"

"Is that a serious question?" Adrian smirked, quirking her left eyebrow. "My mother's a flight attendant with relatives in Colombia. Of course I have a passport. They have international flight discounts for employees every so often, so sometimes we go for the holidays or the summer. I went to Acapulco for my fourteenth birthday. Why?"

"I have family in Italy," he explained, handing her an opened envelope. "My uncle wrote me a few months ago." Ben smiled a little. "He invited my dad and I up there this summer, to stay at his hotel in Bologna. I wrote them back to tell them about Mercy and I got that back," he said, indicating the letter. "They've invited you and Mercy too."

Adrian examined the letter. "Ben," she said slowly. "That's – _Italy!_ That's-"

"I understand if you don't want to," he said quickly. "For so many reasons. And, of course, Mercy only being a month old, but-"

"It's not that I don't want to, I'd love to! But – but the expense-"

Ben waved his hands excitedly. "No, no! It would be completely paid for; completely covered! The air fare, the rooms, the meals…covered!"

Adrian stood up and began to pace. "I'm flattered, Ben, but…that's _so_ much!"

"We want you to go," Ben urged. "My family wants to meet you. And Mercy." He looked down at his shoes. "Just think about it for a couple days before you make a decision, okay? Please?"

"Alright," she relented, stopping at the bassinet. She tucked her now sleeping daughter into bed and pulled her robe tight. "I'll think about it, thanks."

Ben nodded. "I'll see you later."

"Good luck on your finals."

"Thanks."

Adrian watched Ben slip out the door and smiled, "You're welcome."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Is this about Abstinence Group flyers I posted on the library bulletin board?" Grace Bowman asked as she stepped into the counselor's office.

"Abstinence Group flyers?" Marc Molina asked, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Uh, no."

Grace twirled a strand of blonde hair. "Oh…okay." She sat down uncomfortable, first draping her right leg over her left and then her left over her right, before finally choosing to set both feet on the floor and rub the edge of her skirt between her fingers. "Then what is it about? I don't think I've done anything else lately that someone could've taken offense to, not that I recall anyway…"

"Offense? Grace, you're an exemplary student and one of the most well respected students in the faculty room! You have _not _done anything wrong."

"Then why have you called me in here?"

"I have some news."

"News?"

"Good news! Grace, you've been accepted into the Young Healers summer training program!"

Grace stared stone faced at him for several minutes, then she jumped up and practically screamed. "Oh my – oh my –" She waved her arms emphatically. "I can't believe this! I never thought I would get in! Are you serious? This is real? I've _really_ been accepted?"

"Yes, you and one other student."

Grace stopped bouncing. "Who else?" she asked, her voice three shades brighter than usual.

"Jason Treacy. He's Sophomore, do you know him?"

"Treacy, Treacy," Grace murmured, trying to place the name. "It sounds so familiar…"

"He has a younger sister in your grade, Lauren?"

"_Oh!"_ Grace chirped. "I didn't know Lauren had a brother! I've only met her on occasion, but I don't know her very well. I think she's one of Amy Juergens's friends, right? Oh, how exciting! I can't wait to tell my dad. My dad! He's the one who told me to sign up for this, you know! I never thought I'd get in, I didn't think they'd take a Freshman."

"It's an incredible opportunity," he said, handing her a blue folder. "This packet has all the information you'll need for the camp this summer, as well as your schedule and housing number. You'll be living, studying, and working with doctors and med students at an actual teaching hospital."

"I know, I read all about on their website! Isn't it amazing? My dad's going to go crazy!" She glanced at her watch. "We're picking him up from the airport tonight, I can't wait to tell him! Oh, Mr. Molina, can I hug you?"

Mr. Molina frowned. "I…would rather you didn't. No offense."

Grace nodded her head like a doll with a broken neck. "Right, right. Personal space, sorry! Well, thank you! Thank you so much!"

"You're the one who made the grade, not me."

"But still, thank you!" She snatched up her backpack and skipped out of the office, practically bowling over a tall, chocolate skinned young man as she left.

"Grace? I heard we're going to Med Camp together this summer, congratulations!"

"Together? Oh, you must be Jason! Yes, congratulations yourself!" Grace rattled off, almost sounding like she was singing. "I'm so excited, this is going to brilliant!"

"What group did you get for your rounds?"

Grace's brow furrowed. "What?" She noticed him looking at her blue folder and blushed. "Oh, sorry, I didn't have a chance to look through the folder yet, I _just_ got it. Um," she reached into her purse and pulled out a pink gel when, "what's your e-mail? Maybe we can exchange notes over the next few days." She shoved her pen at him.

Jason frowned as he patted his pockets. "I don't think I have any scrap paper on me."

"Oh, uh…" Grace awkwardly shoved the palm of her hand at him. "Here."

Jason laughed and scribbled his name onto her hand in pink ink, but when Grace tried to return the favor by writing her e-mail on his hand, they realized the ink wasn't showing up as well. He laughed awkwardly. "I guess that's not going to work, is it?"

"I think your hands are too soft," Grace observed. "They're really soft. Do you use lotion or something?" Then her cheeks flushed. "Sorry, never mind, there I go again, saying things Adrian says I shouldn't…" She rolled her gray orbs. "I'll just e-mail you tonight then, okay?"

"Sounds good," Jason laughed.

"Great!"

"And Grace?"

"Yeah?"

"My hands are just naturally like that," he said with a cheeky wink.

Grace turned away with a giggle, her face flushing as she skipped off to find her first class.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"That's a wrap, folks! I hope I'll be seeing each and every one of you at band camp again this summer!"

Ricky Underwood twirled his drumsticks between his fingers like batons before slipping them into his back pocket and making a beeline for the band room ahead of the other students. When he got to the cubbies he noticed that Amy Juergens was already there and briefly wondered how she'd beaten him there. He watched her for a moment, then shook his head and grabbed his backpack from one of the cubbies.

"Hey."

Startled, the backpack slipped between his fingers and landed on his foot. "Shit!" he cursed, as a few other band members trickled in. He pulled his foot out and hopped around, glaring. "What?"

Amy shrugged as she pulled her French Horn case door. "Just saying hi, that's all."

"Why would you say hi to me?" he glared.

"You…" Amy absently stroked the writing on her instrument case. "…looked like you could use it."

"I could've used a lay last summer too," he retorted, voice like ice.

Amy swallowed uneasily and looked down at her sneakers. "And if I'd said yes, maybe we'd have been going through what Ben and Adrian went through."

"Ben, Adrian, and _I_," he corrected. "I'm the one who came out of this with nothing to show for it."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not. You're just happy it's not you. You skipped out on Ben the way you, what? Skipped out on the last twenty minutes of band today?"

"That's not fair! I never – you know what? I'm sorry I said anything to you, Ricky! You're still the same arrogant jerk who tried to get under my skirt at band camp. And – and you know what I think? You're just angry I'm not still with Ben, because you think that somehow if I was still with him, then _you_ could be with Adrian! You're pathetic."

Ricky watched her blow out of the band room, practically leaving a trail of steam in her wake. He noticed a few people around him staring and threw up his arms. "What you are looking out? Get out!" Once he was alone, he punched the cross section of one of the cubbies and the board toppled, cracking in two as it hit the ground.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian twisted the knob on her bedroom door in response to the knock she'd just heard. She blinked in surprise when she found Ashley Juergens on the other side. "Ashley! What are you doing here?" The Latina stepped aside, motioning in the younger girl.

"My dad brought me over," Ashley replied, glancing cautiously around the room.

"No offense, but…why?"

"I never got a chance to come see you in the hospital." She shrugged, eyeing the bassinet. "Is that…"

"Yeah," Adrian grinned. "You wanna see her?"

The younger girl nodded slowly and followed Adrian to the bassinet, where she peered over and eyed the sleeping babe. "She's pretty."

"Thank you."

"I, um, I don't see much of Ben in her."

"Well she's definitely Ben's," Adrian nodded.

"Yeah, I heard." Ashley stroked the edge of the bassinet with her finger. "Congratulations." She scuffed her heels together unconsciously. "So, I just wanted to let you know that I passed English." 

"Congratulations yourself!"

"I got an A. On my essay. And a B in the class. So, that means I'll be going to Grant High next year after all."

"I guess we'll be seeing more of each other then."

"I guess so." Ashley looked down at the baby again. "The divorce is almost finalized."

"'Scuse me?"

"My parents' divorce," she repeated. "It'll be finalized in a couple weeks."

"I heard. I – I'm sorry."

"I guess that won't change things much over here, right? I mean, my dad is already pretty much living here. Unless you're all planning to move or something."

"No, definitely not. My mom's lived with boyfriends – uh, people – before, and it's never worked out well. Never again. Not unless she got married and at this point, I don't think that will ever happen."

"Oh."

Adrian sat down on her bed. "What about you?" she asked. "What's your…mom planning on doing?"

"She's keeping the house," Ashley nodded. "Dad's keeping the store. I guess it'll pretty much be like how the last several years of their marriage were."

"Right." Adrian looked across the room, avoiding Ashley's eyes. "So, any plans this summer?"

"I'm spending the summer with my grandma. You?"

"I," Adrian shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. I was thinking about taking a trip."

"A trip?"

"With Ben, he invited me," she smiled. "I don't know yet. Mercy's still so young though, I'm not sure if it would be wise." A knock sounded at the door again and Adrian looked up. "Come in!"

George poked his head in. "It didn't sound like there was much noise back here," he observed. "I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing."

"We were just talking," Ashley informed him.

"Well we gotta get going," George nodded. "I told Donovan and Leon we'd meet them at the store and I'm already running late."

"As usual," Adrian smirked.

"Shh!"

Ashley laughed. "She's right though." She lifted her hand. "Bye, Adrian. Bye…Mercy."

Adrian waved to them as the door shut and then scooted across the bed so she could see over the edge of the bassinet. "How would you like to go to Italy with Mommy and Daddy? Would you like that? Mommy is thinking she might like that…"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"You'll never guess what happened to me today!" Grace gushed from the backseat, as her mother, Kathleen Bowman, and older brother, Tom Bowman, sat up front, the former with a little smile on her lips, while the latter rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"What happened, Grace?" Kathleen humored her.

Grace bounced up and down against her seatbelt. "I want to wait for dad to get here before I tell you." She shook her hands excitedly. "You won't even believe this. You really won't!"

Tom snorted and looked at his sister from the rearview mirror. "What?" he glared. "You ha' sex?"

"_Tom!"_ Grace gasped.

Tom shrugged indignantly. "What?" he retorted. "I woul'n't believe it."

"And you wouldn't need to, because I would never have sex before marriage," Grace spouted back, glaring into the rearview mirror. She crossed her arms in a huff and leaned back into the seat. "When is Dad's plane supposed to land anyway?"

Kathleen eyed her wristwatch. "Not for another fifteen minutes, at least."

"Can't they fly any faster?" Grace pouted.

"They'll be here before you know it," Kathleen promised. She chuckled. "That must be some really good news you're sitting on back there, Gracie."

"You have no idea!" The cheerleader pulled out her cell phone and began to type of a text message.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The cell phone on the kitchen table began to vibrate, but Adrian ignored it as she walked into the kitchen to find her mother tying up a bulky white trash bag, stuffed to the seams. She waved her hand in front of her nose. "That's rancid!"

Cindy cupped her hand to her mouth. "It's all those dirty diapers," she frowned. Suddenly she closed her eyes. "I'll be right back!" she yelped, before darting off in the direction of the bathroom.

Adrian sighed as she grabbed the bag by the yellow drawstrings and hauled it out into the hallway, heading for the dumpster. As she got outside, however, the bag had other ideas, and the plastic peeled back as if it were being touched by a hot flame and trash spilled out in front of her. Dirty diapers, banana peels, TV dinner boxes, toilet paper rolls, empty shampoo bottles, a milk carton that looked like it had a tiny bit of milk still inside which had started to curdle, and way too many dirty tissues coalesced around her feet.

"_¡Mierda!" _she cursed, abandoning the broken bag to run back inside to get two new bags and a pair of rubber gloves. When she returned, she pulled her shirt up over her nose and bent down, picking up the fallen trash piece by piece before dropping it into the fresh trash bag. When she was done, she sealed up the first bag and then opened the second and carefully picked up the broken bag and tried to drop it into the second. She was nearly successful, until one last piece of trash fell out while she was making the transfer. She knew what it was immediately: an early home pregnancy test! Looking around, she saw no one, so she carefully picked up the box and opened the end, her gloved hands shaking as she shook the white stick out of the box and turned it over to see the results.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The sunlight was bouncing off glass that covered a picture of Ben holding Mercy in the hospital, set inside the silver picture frame Alice and Henry had given him the night of Mercy's birth, which sat pristinely on Ben's bedside table. Ben walked out of his bathroom to find his father seated on the edge of his bed. "Good morning," he greeted cheerfully.

"It's morning," Leo Boykewich said gruffly. "But not a good one."

Ben's face fell. "Something wrong at the office?" he asked, racking his brain to figure out what could be wrong.

"It's not that," Leo replied, shaking his head. "Everything at the office is fine…but, Ben, I don't know how to tell you this-"

"Dad, whatever it is, just say it."

"I just got some sad news, Ben."

Ben looked at the photo by his bed. "Mercy?" he asked instinctively.

"Not Mercy," Leo said, shaking his head.

Ben touched his chest, heaving a sigh of relief.

"There's been a plane crash."

Ben opened his mouth, closed it again, and then shook his head. "No! Dad, it couldn't be, you have to be mistaken! Cindy wasn't on a flight this week, she's off, I know she's off!" He rushed to grab the cell phone on his dress, ready to speed dial Adrian until Leo grabbed his hands. "Dad, let me go, I need to call Adrian!"

"It's not Cindy," Leo said, shaking his head.

The phone fell from Ben's hands. "If – if it's not Cindy, then _who_?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Alone in her bed, Grace was wadded up in her pink sheets. Her blonde hair was matted and tangled up around her red, tear streaked face, and she kept rolling back and forth, sobbing into her wet pillows. "D – d – da – dd – y…" she whimpered, interspersed with sobs and stuffy sniffles. Her fingers periodically clenched around masses of sheet or pillow case as her whole body seized with sobs, then she would gasp and cough, as though she were having an asthma attack before settling back down into quiet sobs again.


	2. What's Done Has Just Begun

**A/N: **I keep forgetting to mention this, but FYI, if you're fluent in Spanish and you're wondering why it probably sucks in my stories, it's because I have to look it up for a translation and there's always a bunch of contradicting information online. So if I use the wrong phrasing or it just flat out makes no sense, that's probably why. The one exception would be when Cindy calls Adrian _Chica_, instead of any other kind of more personal nickname that you might expect with a daughter. It's supposed to sound a little odd, because they've had a strained relationship for so long. (But at this point, even now that they've gotten closer than they used to be, why would they change that? It's something they've grown used to by now, so the nickname won't change.) So don't hate me for the bad Spanish, but feel free to let me know the right terminology for future reference, because Spanish is _not_ my area of expertise.

_**Turning Tables**_

**What's Done Has Just Begun**

"Thanks, Mom," Adrian sniffed as she unbuckled her seatbelt. They were parked in her mother's car, in front of the Bowman residence. It was a clear June morning, with a blue sky and the sun shining through the green tree limbs in the front yard. It was as though nature or the universe or Grace's very own God was mocking them all. The teenager poked her head in between the seats and spied Mercy in her car seat. She wagged her finger at her daughter. "Mama's gonna go see Auntie Grace, so you be good for _Aubela_, okay?"

Cindy touched her daughter's shoulder. "We'll be fine," she promised. "You just go make sure Grace is alright."

"Of course she's not alright," Adrian glared. "Who could be alright after something like this? Her father…he was a strict man, but a _good_ man. This wasn't his time, he still had so many things to do. And Grace," she shook her head. "I just keep thinking that if I lost you the same way she lost Mr. Bowman, I – I – I don't know what I would do. I'd just want to die."

"Go talk to her; be there for her," Cindy urged. The automatic locks clicked as she pressed her manicured index finger against the control. "Call me whenever you're ready."

"_Gracias."_

"_Te quiero, Mama."_ Adrian closed the door and adjusted her purse on her shoulder as she moved up the walkway towards the Bowmans' porch. She clicked her knuckles against the wood and waited, counting the seconds in her head until the door cracked open, revealing Kathleen's sallow face. "Hi, Mrs. Bowman," she whispered, mentally kicking herself as soon as it came out: she was no longer a wife anymore, but a widow.

"Adrian," Kathleen whimpered, opening the door. "Come on, come in." She produced a ratty tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes, which were red, like streaks of blood running through cream.

"I'm so sorry," Adrian whispered, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you for coming over." Her words were slow, spoken a breath at a time. "Grace," she whispered, "is up in her room. She's – she's not doing very well. Not that any of us are." Kathleen wrapped her arms around her abdomen. "She was so excited…so excited."

Adrian nodded sympathetically. "To tell him she got into the Young Healers program."

"She – what?" Kathleen croaked. "Oh, God…"

"You didn't know?"

"She wanted Marshall there when she broke the news, she never said about what. After they told us, she just kept saying how she'd give everything up to have him back…trying to bargain with God." The blonde shook her un-kept hair, which was pulled into a haphazard bun. "It was too late, they passed away on impact. We didn't even – we didn't even get to go to the _hospital!_" she said, breaking down on the last word.

At that moment, Tom came down the stairs and embraced his mother, who openly sobbed into his shoulder. He shared a brief look at Adrian and pointed. "Grace i' upstairs, bu' she won' talk to no one."

"Thanks, Tom," Adrian nodded, leaving him to comfort his mother as she forged the long trek up to her best friend's bedroom. She knocked first, but received no answer, which she expected, so she tried the door handle and the door opened. A raw smell immediately assaulted her nose: a wet, almost mossy smell, coupled with body odor and a hint of vomit. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand, thankful she wasn't pregnant any longer, otherwise she wouldn't be able to handle it.

On the bed there was a body sized lump, covered by a pink and green quilt. No sound was coming from it, but at the top, a small tuff of ratty blonde hair was sticking from the edge. Adrian seated herself on the edge and attempted to pull down the quilt, only for Grace's skinny hand to snake out and pull it back up. Adrian attempted again, resulting in more of the same.

"I'm sorry. Grace," Adrian whispered, piling her manicured hands into her lap, "I'm sorry about your dad." She pursed her lips, waiting, hoping for any kind of response. "Do you want to talk?" She tried the blanket again and this time Grace swatted blindly at her hand, barely missing. "just talk to me, Grace!"

"Go. Away."

Adrian folded her arms. "I'm not going away. You're pushing everyone away – you mother, your brother, me – but I'm not going away. You remember that day in the bathroom stall? When you caught me throwing up and you refused to leave even when I said the most horrible things to you? Well, here's karma for you, because I'm not leaving. You can call me all the names you want, you can slap me, throw things at me…but I'm not leaving. Not now, not ever! So you might as well just pull off that blanket and deal with me."

Roughly five minutes elapsed and when Adrian failed to move from the bed, eight fingers peeked over the edge of the blanket and pulled it down just far enough to reveal Grace's sunken eyes, like two target signs: red outer rings, gray inner rings, and large black holes at their center. "I d-don't understand," she sputtered, "how th-this could h-app-en. My – my father…he's – was – a good man!"

Adrian crawled onto the bed, pushed the blankets back, and climbed under them with Grace, wrapping her arms around her friend. "I know," she whispered in Grace's ear. "He was an _amazing_ man and I am _so_ sorry!"

Grace pressed her hands to her head and began to scream, prompting Adrian to grip her tighter. "It's not fair!" she howled. "He didn't do anything! _I_ didn't do anything! None of us did anything and He took him away from us for no reason!"

"I know, Grace, I know!" Adrian grabbed the outsides of Grace's hands and wove her fingers between the blonde's. "Let it out, Grace. Let it all out."

Grace suddenly kicked off the quilt and began to thrash her legs as Adrian restrained her upper body. When she was finished, tears began to surge from her eyes again, and she resumed sobbing into her pillows.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Did you hear about Dr. Bowman?"

Ben did a double take as Amy came up to him. "Yeah," he said after a beat, "my dad told me this morning. I can't believe it."

"Have you seen her?"

"Grace?" Ben shook his head. "I was running late this morning, I didn't get a chance. I was thinking of stopping over after work. Why?"

Amy wrapped her arms around her stomach. "I want to go over there, but I feel a little awkward. Grace and I never really talked much, aside from our confrontation about Ricky at the carnival."

Ben shrugged. "I could pick you up, if you wanted. Well, I mean, have my driver pick you up. We could go over together."

"Would you really want to?"

"Grace is my friend. We weren't extremely close or anything, but she was there for Adrian all throughout the pregnancy and she was there for me when she could be, so I feel I have a duty to do whatever I can for her."

"What about Adrian?" Amy tentatively questioned.

"She texted me this morning and said she was going over there. I'm not sure how long she's staying, but her mom's watching the baby today."

Amy nodded. "I'd really like to stop over," she said again. "If you could make the time to go with me, Ben, I'd really appreciate it." She startled a bit when Ben suddenly embraced her and she fumbled to wrap her arms around him in return.

"I'll see you tonight then."

"Yeah, you too." Amy shuffled her feet in place. "Good luck."

"Huh?"

"On your finals today," she clarified. "Good luck."

"You too," he said before walking away.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The clock on Grace's wall read six o'clock. The latter was still crumpled up in bed, breathing raggedly and occasionally flinching or rolling over in her sleep while Adrian watched from her seat by the window.

"How's she doing?"

Adrian kept her eyes focused on the blonde, despite Ricky's voice from the doorway. "She's not."

Ricky stepped into the room and approached the foot of Grace's bed, a pained look on his face. "Mrs. Bowman says you've been here since this morning."

"Did I have any other choice? Grace has been there for me since almost the beginning, even when I hated her for it. She's my only friend."

"What?" he bit back sarcastically. "We're not friends?"

"You know what I mean," Adrian sighed, not wanting to fight. "She's the only friend I have who I haven't been romantically entangled with."

Ricky crossed the room to Adrian's side and pulled her into a surprising hug.

"Ricky, no." Adrian tried to push him away, but he just hung on tighter, until she stopped trying to resist him. "What are you doing?" she sighed.

"Has it been so long since you've had a hug that you've forgotten what one is?"

"I don't want to make this too complicated, Ricky. Ben and I are still trying to sort out our relationship right now."

"You have a relationship?"

"We're parents, we have a kind of relationship whether we like it or not."

Ricky glanced over his shoulder at Grace's restlessly slumbering form. "Are you sleeping with him?" he whispered.

Adrian pressed her fist into his chest, pushing him away with a scowl. _"No."_

"It was a valid question." 

"I_ just_ had a baby." At his continued stare, she added, "I couldn't have sex until after my postnatal checkup even if I wanted to and that doesn't happen for at least six weeks after birth. And for the record, no, I'm not having sex with you then either."

"I wasn't asking you to."

"Tell that to your eyes. And by eyes, I mean your penis."

Ricky glanced back at Grace again, to make sure she hadn't awoken at the sound of their bickering. "Tell Grace I stopped by, okay?"

"You can tell her yourself." Adrian picked up a small piece of lined paper with her handwriting on it. "I was just about to leave myself. I wanted to stay the night, but I've got to get home to Mercy." She shoved the paper and pen at Ricky and swept across to Grace's bed, where she stroked the blonde's hair. "Sweet dreams, Gracie. I'll see you tomorrow." She grabbed her coat from the back of her friend's computer chair and shared a quick glance with Ricky before departing.

Ricky looked over what Adrian had written to Grace and then pressed the paper to the window and scribbled a quick note beneath hers, followed by his name. He laid it upon Grace's bedside table and mentally debated whether or not to leave right away. Eventually, he sat down and waited until the clock on the wall had hit seven o'clock, but Grace had still not awoken, so he collected himself and left, turning off the light as he walked out the door.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"It feels so strange being at your house again – being in your living room, waiting for you – after all that's happened this year," Ben said as he got up from the couch when Amy came into the room. "You look nice, by the way."

Amy looked down at herself: she was only wearing a knee length, lacy skirted black dress with tank-top like sleeves over a black and white polka dotted short sleeved shirt, with black ballet flats. "I didn't mean to," she said self consciously. "I was only trying to find something properly black to wear."

"No, I mean you look appropriate…for what we're doing." Ben motioned his hand. "I'm glad you're going with me tonight, quite honestly," he admitted as he opened the front door for her. "I felt a little awkward going alone. She might not even want to see anyone."

"Oh!" Amy raised her finger. "Hold on, I almost forgot..." She ran back through the door and back towards the kitchen until Ben lost sight of her and when she returned, she was carrying an oversized tray of different types of cheeses.

"Cheese?" Ben asked skeptically.

"My mom brought it home. She – she didn't really know what to get. What _do_ you get in situations like this? She didn't really know Grace's mom that well, apart from knowing that she was my dad's first wife and meeting her occasionally. It was mostly my dad and Kathleen that kind of fueled the family rivalry."

Ben pulled open the back door and took the cheese from Amy as the latter situated herself in the back of the limo. "This couldn't have happened at a worse time."

"How can any time be good for someone to die?"

"That's not what I meant," Ben sighed. "I just mean that, well, Grace just got into that med program and it's finals week and – and she was so excited for the summer. Now what? Do you think she'll be able to pass her classes? Or makeup the finals? If she has to go to summer school, she can't go to the Young Healers program." He ran his hands through his hair. "I just wish there was something more I could do for her. I feel so bad. She's done so much and I can't do anything to help."

"You know what it's like though, to have a parent die suddenly. Maybe you could help her from that angle? Emotionally."

Ben nodded slowly. "I never thought of that, but you're right."

Amy began to absently trace her fingers around the plastic lid on the cheese tray. After a while she asked, "So…how's the baby?"

Ben smiled proudly and pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket. "Have you seen her yet?" he asked, to which Amy shook her head. "She's so beautiful," he breathed, bringing up a picture on his cell phone. "Look!"

Amy took the cell and examined the picture. It was an up close photo of Mercy's face. "She's…cute."

"There are more if you press the arrow button on the left," he instructed. "I think she looks a little bit like my mom, don't you think?"

Amy studied the picture, then pressed the button Ben had told her to and another picture turned up, this time one of Ben holding Mercy, clearly one he hadn't taken. "Yeah," she said unconvincingly. "And a lot like Adrian." She handed the phone back and forced a smile. "How are you adjusting?" she asked.

"We were going to agree to split visitation, but Mercy's still so young…so she's just mostly at Adrian's house for now, but I have a complete nursery at my house too. When she gets older, we'll start moving her between our houses."

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out."

Ben snorted. "No. You should hear the way she cries in the middle of the night! It's like as soon as you get to that point where you're about to doze off, she just knows somehow, and she zeroes in on it. But between you and me, I think I'm a little better at quieting her down than Adrian…unless she's hungry."

Amy looked down at the cheese. "Sounds like you've been spending a lot of time over there then; days and nights." She looked up. "That's good, I guess. A father should spend time with his children."

"I'm not going to be one of those deadbeat dads," Ben nodded.

"How's the job going?" she asked suddenly.

"Great! Dad says he's impressed with how much business my advising has drawn up, but, you know, fathers are supposed to say those kinds of things, so who knows?"

"I'm sure he's right," Amy grinned. "You're good at listening and helping people out, Ben. Maybe you could make a career out of it when you're older? Aside from your dad's business, I mean."

"Maybe," he mused aloud. "Hopefully Mercy will be like that too, when she grows up."

Amy stared down at her lap again and said nothing.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Grace teetered down the stairway, her toes curling in the cold air that they hadn't been exposed to in twenty-four hours. She could hear something in the direction of the kitchen, but it was quiet, and she assumed it was likely her mother, maybe crying herself. As she reached the bottom step, her stomach gurgled. She was starving, though she wasn't sure how long or even if she could keep anything down, if she got to thinking about everything that had happened again.

Timidly, she peeked into the kitchen and froze at what she saw: George, her mother's ex-husband, giving her mother a backrub. She gasped, prompting both of the adults to look up. Grace gripped the wall for support, as George retracted his hands from Kathleen's shoulders.

"Grace!" Kathleen exclaimed, jumping up. "Baby, how are you?"

Grace tore away from her mother. "What do you think you're doing?" she barked. "It's barely been a day and you're already sexing up your ex-husband? Your married, cheating-on-his-wife, ex-husband?"

"Grace!" Kathleen scolded, raising her finger. "No! You take that back, right now! George only came over to help! _I_ called _him_," she explained. "I asked him to cover the funeral arrangements for me, because I couldn't!"

"Then why is he over here giving you a back rub?"

"Because I'm all twisted up in knots right now, Grace. Just like you; just like Tom. George is only trying to help."

"I should go," George said awkwardly.

"You're right," Grace snapped, "you should! And don't come back here. This is still my father's house, whether he's here or not, and she–" the cheerleader shrieked, pointing to her mother "–is still his wife!"

George hurriedly gathered his coat and belongings as Grace continued her verbal rampage, following him right up to the front door. When he opened it, he found himself caught between Grace and Kathleen on the inside and his daughter and her ex-boyfriend on the outside.

"Dad?" Amy breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"I-"

"Was just leaving," Grace interested, pulling the door open wider so she could see the two other teenagers. "After giving my mother a nice massage." She cast her furious red eyes on her mother's, appearing almost like a demonic creature.

"I'm sorry, George," Kathleen said, shaking her head. "Thank you for everything you've done."

"Come on, Ames," George said, grabbing his daughter by the shoulder.

"What? Dad!" Amy squawked, shimmying out of his grasp. "Ben and I came to see Grace. We brought…" She shoved her cheese tray through the front door.

Kathleen accepted the cheese tray with a frown. "Thank you, Amy."

Amy glared at her father. "It's from my mom, too."

"Oh," Kathleen spoke, barely audible. "Well, thank her for me too."

Grace folded her arms. "I appreciate you trying to come see me tonight," she said without making eye contact, "but if you don't mind, I'd rather be left alone tonight. I'm sorry you came all this way for nothing."

Ben rung his hands together. "I'm sorry," he blurted out, not knowing what else to see in that moment.

"'Sorry' isn't going to bring my dad back and, you know what? It only makes me feel worse, so I wish people would quit telling me that they're 'sorry!'" Grace threw up her hands. "I'm going back to bed. Please, none of you bother me again."

Amy stood silently in the doorway, caught between the three other people. "I – my heart goes out to you, Mrs. Bowman."

"Thank you, Amy."

George laid his hand on his daughter's back. "I'll take you home."

Amy swiped his hand away. "No, I came with Ben," she glared. "I'll leave with Ben."

Ben and George shared a look, before the latter nodded. "Get her home safe, Benjamin."

"You don't have to worry, Mr. Juergens." He turned and nodded to Kathleen, keeping a watch from the corner of his eye as George got into his car and drove off. Instinctively, Ben took Amy's hand. "I suppose we'll see you later then?" he asked, looking to the blonde.

"Of course, Ben. Goodnight."

As soon as the door was shut, Amy untangled her fingers from Ben's and pressed her hands to her face. "I can't believe this," she whispered, sounding as though she was about to cry. "How can my dad do this? He's already ch – he's already left us and now he's over here with Grace's mom too?"

"Maybe it's not what it seems?"

"Or it's exactly what it seems."

Ben draped his arm around Amy's shoulders and led her back to the limo. "Everyone's upset tonight," he sighed. "I think we all just need our rest."

From up in her room, Grace watched from her window as Ben walked Amy back to the limo and the two disappeared inside. The tears bloomed in her eyes again and she began to sob, feeling unable to control herself. She turned and saw a lamp on her dresser, then noticed a picture of the Lord that was hanging on her wall. Suddenly she grabbed the lamp and hurled it across the room, shattering both the lamp and the photo at the same time. There was a sizzling pop that happened a moment later and then her room went pitch black. The only thing that remained above the darkness was the sound of Grace's weeping.


	3. Scar For The Course

**A/N: **This chapter was a difficult one to write. It brought back some painful memories. :(

_**Turning Tables**_

**Scar For The Course**

Grace's eyes cracked open to the sound of rustling papers and thumping footsteps. The sunlight hit them as soon as she was awake, causing her to pull her quilt up over her head, shielding her eyes until they had adjusted appropriately. Then she peeked out from under the covers and saw Adrian moving things around in her room. "What are you-" she yawned "-doing?"

Adrian didn't bother to stop as she said, "Cleaning your room, what does it look like? And you know what, you should feel honored, because you will only ever see this Latina cleaning your room once. I don't clean things for white girls, okay?"

For the first day in a week, Grace managed to crack a tiny smile. "Thanks, Adrian."

"Thank me by getting up, getting showered, and getting dressed."

"I don't want to-"

Adrian grabbed the covers and tore them off her friend, introducing her to the morning chill. _"¡Ahora!"_ The Latina commanded.

Grace had no idea what she'd just said, but Adrian had said it in such a way that the blonde jumped off her bed and shivered in the cold. "Adrian, please…" she whimpered.

"No." Adrian lifted her finger. "It's been a week, Grace. Everyone has humored you for a week and now it's time for you to pay your respects to your father. It's his funeral and I'll be damned if I let you miss that!"

Grace shook her matted blonde hair. "I don't know if I can do it," she whispered, gray orbs tearing up at the thought of her father's ashes.

"You can and you will. You're strong, Grace. And I'll be there with you ever step of the way." She grabbed a mid-thigh length black dress that was hanging on the back of a chair and handed it to her friend. "Now go get cleaned up and put that on, I'll be here when you get out."

Grace swallowed the mass growing in her throat and nodded. Her legs felt like jelly as she walked out of the bedroom. It was paradoxical the way her heart felt: in one sense, it felt too surreal, in the other, sometimes the pain was sense intense that she actually considered praying for death.

Once in the bathroom, Grace hung the dress on the back of the door and leaned over the sink, staring at herself in the mirror. Her face looked leathery from all the crying she'd done over the last week, her lips were dry and chapped, and there were a string of pimples across her forehead because she'd refused to bathe or even wash her face. She felt disgusted with herself and she knew Adrian was right, but still, she couldn't see how she could go on without her father. And going to his funeral meant saying goodbye to him for the final time.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I tried to go over to Grace's to see her a few times," Jack Pappas said as he busied himself with setting out food on foldable tables inside the church gymnasium. "She refused to see me."

"Do you blame her?" Ricky asked rhetorically.

Jack shrugged. "Just because we're not dating anymore – or even friends – doesn't mean I don't care that her father died or that she's in pain."

"You cheated on her once and tried to have sex with Adrian to get her back. How is it that you care for her again?"

"Come on, man!" Jack groaned. "Give me a break. I was stupid. I've grown since then. You should know what that's like, you've grown this year too."

Ben walked in, carrying a metal warmer which he placed on the table. "My dad wanted me to thank you both for helping us set up today. A lot of the staff that usually does this were friends of Dr. Bowman's and my dad didn't want to have to inconvenience them today." The fifteen-year-old avoided eye contact with the drummer and chose to focus on the jock. "I think we have just another truck or two outside and then we'll be done."

"I'll get right on it," Jack nodded before skipping out to go find the catering trucks.

"This must bring back memories," Ricky said once they were alone.

"Excuse me?"

"Isn't that how you met Adrian? By catering the majorette retreat?"

"This isn't really the type of thing that brings back memories like that," Ben fired back. "It's a _funeral_."

"I know what it is," Ricky growled. His face softened as he turned away to adjust an arrangement of flowers that didn't need adjusting. "How's Mercy, anyway? Is Adrian bringing her to the church daycare?"

"No, Cindy's babysitting again today. We thought it would be better than subjecting her to this. Cindy didn't know the Bowmans, so she said she didn't think she had any business coming anyway."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"No reason," Ricky shrugged. "Just curious."

"You wanted to see her, didn't you? Mercy?"

Ricky shook his head. "Don't be stupid. She's not my kid."

"But you wanted her to be."

"Doesn't matter what I wanted. Or didn't. She's not my kid; not my concern. Forget I asked." Ricky strode over to help Jack as the latter came back in, his arms stacked with hot trays of food, fresh from the butcher shop.

Truth be told, Ben hadn't been thinking about Adrian and the retreat before, but now that Ricky had brought it up, flashes of memory were hitting his brain like a flashing flicking in front of his eyes. He thought about Bologna again, which hadn't exactly been on his mind since the news of Marshall's death, but now he realized Adrian had never given him an answer about the trip. Not that it was important at the moment anyway, but with the seed planted, he couldn't shake it off, no matter how inappropriate it was.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian thudded her fist against the bathroom door. "Grace, are you okay in there?" she yelled.

Kathleen came around the corner, dressed in a sleeveless, knee length black dress with her hair pulled back into a tucked in bun, and her face daintily accentuated by diamond studs in her ears and a thin golden necklace. "She's been in there for a long time."

Adrian glanced at her cell phone. "I have to get going pretty soon," she sighed. "I still need to take a sure and get ready myself."

The blonde nodded. "Thank you, Adrian. This last week…I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been over here so much helping out with Grace. I can't thank you enough!"

"You don't need to. Grace is my friend. My only friend. I had to do it."

"You should go home. You've done more than enough here. You have a newborn daughter that misses you." She nodded towards the bathroom. "I'll make sure Grace gets out and over to the funeral."

The Latina heaved her shoulders in defeat. "If you're sure…"

"I'm sure."

"Alright. I'll see you in a few hours then." Adrian reached to knock on the door again. "Grace, hurry up, your mother's waiting! I have to get going now, but I'll see you shortly!"

On the other side of the door, Grace was sprawled out in a bubble filled tub with a wet washcloth over her face, listening to Adrian's voice. She peeled off the washcloth and dropped it into the sudsy water, then picked up her razor and lifted her wet leg out of the water, balancing her foot on the water faucet. She drew the razor down her leg once, twice, and the third time her foot slipped and she gasped as the blade gouged against her ankle. The razor fell beneath the bubbles and Grace cupped her slippery fingers over the bloodied spot for a few minutes. Afterwards, she pulled her fingers away, covered in blood.

"It looks worse than it is," she reminded herself, as the blood dripped off her ankle and onto the white bubbles. The blonde dunked her hands into the water and rinsed away the blood. A few moments later she retrieved the wash cloth from the bath and lightly dabbed the cut, wincing as the soap leaked into the cut.

Slowly, Grace pulled the razor back up from the water and held it in front of her face, examining the triple blade. She eyed the cut, then the razor, and then slowly lifted her left hand, tilting her wrist towards herself. Her gray irises danced between her wrist and the razor before she pressed the latter to her skin. She could feel her heart exploding in her chest, imagining how nice it would feel if the pain in her chest would just go away. Her hand began to shake as she felt the tears come again. She threw the razor across the bathroom and dropped her leg back into the tub, pulling her bare legs up to her chest and crying into her knees.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Look who's home," Cindy cooed as Adrian stepped through the door. She stood up from the couch, cradling the infant to her chest as the youngest Lee suckled a bottle.

"Mmm," the young mother murmured, kissing her daughter's dark hair. "Mama's missed you!" She accepted the little girl into her arms and cuddled the child to her breast, absorbing the warmth from her wriggling little body. "Has she doubled in size in the last week?"

"Seems like it, doesn't it?" Cindy chuckled. "I never thought I could love something this much. Not since you."

Adrian slid onto the couch beside her mother and crossed her legs as she watched her little girl chug on the bottle. Her eyes locked onto her mother. "Do you think you can do it again?"

"What?" Cindy questioned, squinting confusedly at the question.

"Love another baby."

"I – don't understand."

The teenager tapped her shoe against the floor. "I know, Mom."

"You know what?"

"This isn't how I wanted to bring this up, but with everything that's happened with Grace, I haven't had a chance to sit down and properly discuss this with you until now." She uncrossed her legs and looked pointedly at her mother. "I know that you're pregnant." Silence spread between them like a thick fog. She adjusted the babe in her arms. "Does George know yet?"

"Adrian, you've got it all wrong-"

"Don't lie to me. _Please_, don't like to me. I've seen the pregnancy test. The stupid bag broke when I was taking it out last week and I saw the test. Is that why George hasn't been around as much this week?"

"Yes."

Adrian closed her eyes, her chest collapsing like a deflating balloon. "What are you going to do?"

Cindy placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I'm not pregnant, Adrian."

"You – already had an abortion?"

"I never was," the elder Latina clarified.

"But the test-"

"Was a false positive. Rare, but they happen. I already saw my doctor about it and he said I'm not pregnant."

Adrian narrowed her eyes. "You're sure?"

"If I was, you would be the first to know."

"Even before George?"

"Even before George."

"But you thought you were," Adrian continued. "I don't understand, what happened? Don't you use precautions? And _especially_ after what I just went through-"

"It was a misunderstanding. I thought he'd had a vasectomy and he thought I was using birth control."

"How can you have a 'misunderstanding' about a vasectomy?"

Cindy covered her face with her hand. "I overheard him talking to Anne about it. I didn't know it was a lie."

"He_ lied_ to his wife about a vasectomy?"

"He has his faults."

"That's the understatement of the year."

Cindy stroked the bottom of Mercy's foot, causing the infant to wriggle and kick her leg away. "The point is: I'm not pregnant. But I did talk to George about it."

"I thought you just said you'd tell me first?"

"He overheard me making the appointment with my doctor, I didn't seek him out to tell him. And that's why he hasn't been around much this week. After we found out it was a false alarm, we decided we both needed a little distance."

"So, what?" Adrian spat, suddenly venomous. "If you had been-"

"He would've stepped up," Cindy interrupted. "But neither of us wanted anymore children, Adrian, and it took this pregnancy scare to make us realize this; to – to reevaluate things between us. George is a good man, at his core. He makes a lot of bad choices, don't get me wrong, but then again, we all do, so who am I to judge, right? Anyway, we've just decided that…we need our space."

"So, you've broken up?"

"Not yet, but I think that's where we're headed. We're planning to get together next week and talk about everything, but right now he needs to be there for Kathleen."

"His first wife," Adrian deadpanned.

"Yes. But they were friends first and they still are. Anyway, she's asked him to help her out this week because Marshall apparently had no family left and her family won't come-"

"How can they not come?"

Cindy shrugged. "George says her mother has strong religious beliefs; always has, which is why they got married in the first place. I guess, in that way, she and I do have something in common." Cindy quickly shook her head. "Anyway, that's why we agreed to delay things until after the funeral."

"So you're _not_ pregnant?" Adrian asked again, just to be completely sure.

Cindy shook her head definitively. "And I don't plan on getting pregnant again. Ever. I've got all I need right here," she smiled, tickling the underside of Mercy's tiny foot again.

Adrian scooted closer to her mother and laid her head onto Cindy's shoulder. "But offence, but I'm relieved. It's not that I don't like George, but the apartment was getting a little crowded, if you know what I mean. And besides, I don't think I'm ready to be a big sister. I'm still adjusting to being a _mother_."

"And you're doing it beautifully."

"I'm sorry, but have you heard her at night?"

Cindy scooped the baby out of her daughter's arms. "You were the same way, _Chica_. Sometimes babies just need to cry and there's nothing we can do about it." She stroked her hand over the back of Adrian's head. "It's getting late," she observed. "You'd better go get ready."

Adrian groaned and pushed up from her spot on the couch. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben spied his father speaking to Kathleen and Tom in the parking lot. He watched Kathleen lean in and say something to Tom, who nodded and promptly walked away, before she resumed conversation with Leo. The teenager bounced between the balls of his feet until Kathleen also departed in the direction Tom had left and then he jogged up to his dad, who stood beside the black limo in which Kathleen and Tom had arrived. "What's going on?"

Leo nodded discreetly towards the back passenger door that they were standing behind. "I came to make sure Mrs. Bowman was alright and to let her know the catering was all taken care of." He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "She's pretty upset though…"

"That's understandable-"

"Not just because of the funeral." Leo cautiously pointed his thumb at the car door. "Grace is still in the car. One of Dr. Bowman's last requests was to have them all say a few things on the church steps, but Grace is refusing to get out. I can't blame her, but having also been through this with your mother, I can see where Mrs. Bowman is coming from as well-"

Ben touched his father's arm, effectively quieting him. "I'll get her out."

"Ben, I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"You said yourself: we've been through this before. _I've_ been through this before. Specifically, losing a parent. I can help, Dad. I know I can. Just…trust me."

Leo patted his son's shoulder. "I do trust you, Benjamin. You know I do. "

Ben nodded. "You go find Mrs. Bowman and tell her I'm working on things." As soon as his father left, Ben inhaled sharply and climbed into the back of the limo, much to Grace's surprise. He found her gasping, crying, and repeatedly wiping a tattered tissue across her eyes and nose.

"B – en," she sputtered. "What are y-ou d – o – o – o – ing?"

"Helping," he answered, offering a clean tissue from his pocket which the blonde accepted gratefully.

"You c – an't bring m–my dad b-b-back."

Ben cringed as she blew her nose. "I wish I could, but I can't," he agreed regretfully. "But the world doesn't stop spinning because your parent dies. It feels like it should, but it doesn't. You have to get out there and be with your family right now, Grace."

Grace shook her head. "I can't. No. I – I'm sorry, but I can't."

"I know what you're going through," Ben sighed. "I've been there, Grace. _I know. _Maybe not exactly. I was younger than you are, I was ten when my mom died, and it wasn't sudden like it was with your dad. In some ways, I always wish it had been, because then I wouldn't have had to watch her suffer for so long. But on the flip side, at least I got to say my goodbyes to her, even if I wasn't ready to. I'm still not ready to."

"What do - do you m-mean?" she sniffed.

"I still visit her grave: every year on her birthday, every Christmas, Easter, and _every_ anniversary of her death. Even if it means missing school to do it. It's a ritual. And I still go there frequently to talk to her about what's going on in my life; get her advice in a way. I miss her so much, Grace. Every day, every hour, every nanosecond. She's my mom and I will always miss her. My dad thinks I'm living in the past, but I disagree: by keeping her alive, I am able to move on. I don't know if that makes any sense but-"

The cheerleader placed her sweaty hand on his, nodding fervently. "It makes sense," she whispered.

"Listen, Grace: I know you're hurting so much right now, but you believe that your dad is in heaven right now watching over you, right?" He gauged her eyes for a response, but she just returned him with a glassy stare. "I think you do," he finally continued. "And I think you know that you should honor his last wishes. If you couldn't tell him how you feel in life, then why not _show_ him how you feel in death, by fulfilling what he asked of you? Your mother and brother are no better off than you are, but they're out there right now, so why aren't you?"

Grace wiped her eyes with Ben's tissue again. Her crying had subsided since he'd climbed in with her and she found herself nodding. "Y – you're right," she whispered. "I know you are, it just – _hurts_. So. Much."

Ben reached across the seat to take her hand. "Believe me, I know."

Grace smiled bleakly. "Thank you, Ben."

"Anytime." After a lapse he said, "So what are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna do the speech."

Ben nodded. "We can wait here as long as you need."

Grace shook her head. "No. Like you said, Mom and Tom are out there right now and everyone is waiting on me. It's not fair. I'm going to get out." She reached for the door handle, looked at Ben, and released his hand.

Ben got out on the opposite side of the car as Grace rounded it and came to stand by his side. "Do you want me to walk you up there?"

"No, I can do it. But thank you, Ben." She suddenly threw her arms around him and sniffled against his shoulder. "You're a good guy, Ben Boykewich."

When she'd finally untangled herself from him and joined her family and Reverend Stone on the church steps, Ben joined his father and the other mourners on the lawn. He deftly searched the crowd for Adrian as Tom began his speech.

"Thanks fo' comin'. My dad – love you all…and we all love him, right back. He was a goo' man, he cared abou' everyone, and wherever he was, he lived it – the Word – and he made people happy. And so, today, he axed, that we say, goo'bye, to him, with one of his favorite plays, in the world…when he wasn't in bed wif my mom. I will miss him, bu' some day, I will be wif him again. As will all his friends and family: my mom and Grace. No. _Especially_ Grace."

On the other side of the lawn, Adrian wiped a tear away from her eye with the back of her hand. She noticed a smear of mascara on her skin and was debating whether or not to wipe it onto her black dress when a hand appeared in front of her, offering a tissue. Her eyes followed up the length of the arm that the hand belonged to and worked their way up to the chest, neck, and eventually the face it belonged to: Ricky's. She sighed and accepted the tissue, wiping her hand first and then dabbing her eyes again. "Thank you."

Ricky stood next to her as a procession of golf carts came around the corner, with Bunny and the church choir leading away, singing "When the Saints Go Marching In." He noticed her glancing about and could take only one guess as to whom she was searching for. He motioned towards the golf carts, which people were starting to board. "Come on-"

"I'm looking for-"

"He's over there," Ricky replied, pointing to the cart Ben was climbing onto with his father. "Only two to a cart." He watched her deflate. "Take one with me?"

"I guess."

Ricky led her across the grass as Leo and Ben pulled away, never noticing them, and he took her hand, helping her onto the passenger side of the cart before getting on himself and following the cart line out of the church parking lot and over to the golf course, where the carts formed a ring around the first hole and watched as Grace, Tom, Kathleen, and Reverend Stone got out and approached the grassy knoll, with Tom carrying the box containing Dr. Bowman's ashes. He heard Adrian emit a whimper beside him and he quickly slid a comforting arm around her shoulders as they watched Tom open the box and expel the ashes onto the golf course.

Grace felt some of the ash breeze across her bare legs as a faint breeze picked up. Goose bumps crawled across her skin as she watched Tom's slick black shoes turn gray with the ash dust. She leaned into her mother's shoulder, feeling almost faint, and knowing she was very close to breaking down again, in front of everyone. Looking over her mother's shoulder, she saw Ben watching her from his golf cart. She bit her lip and looked back to Tom, who she realized was trying to hide his face, as he began to cry himself.

An empowerment raced through Grace's veins and she breeched the space between her and her brother to embrace him. Soon, she felt her mother wrap her arms around her from behind and Grace closed her eyes, soaking in the tears and simultaneous strength her family afforded her as they stood broken, yet somehow still united, at her father's favorite place, in the midst of his swirling ashes.


	4. Ciao Bella

**A/N: **As a warning, awkward chapter is awkward. ;)

_**Turning Tables**_

**Ciao Bella**

"I can't. I can't go to Bologna with you, Ben. I'm sorry. With everything that's happened, it's just the right time. Grace is still recovering from losing her father and I need to be there for you." Adrian cringed at the look on letdown on Ben's face, evident in the suddenly slouched posture of his curved back and loud expulsion of breath from his nostrils.

"It's alright," he said eventually. "I understand. I know Grace and I have never been really good friends, but she's been so good to you and to me – and even Ricky too – and I understand."

Adrian lifted her finger. "_But,_ I think _you_ should go."

The brows on Ben's forehead shot up, almost touching his hairline. "Come again?"

"You should go," Adrian repeated. "Moreover, you should take Mercy with you."

Ben's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. "I – you would really do that?" he gasped. "You'd really trust me like that with her?"

"You're her father, Ben. You've been there ever since she was born. Not flawless, mind you, but neither have I. Trial and error. But you'll also have your dad there and your extended family. That's why you wanted to go in the first place, isn't it? Because they wanted to see Mercy? So you should go! It'll be a good experience. She won't remember, but you will. And they will." Adrian smiled. "Just take pictures for me, okay? A lot of pictures!"

"We were hoping to go in the beginning of July and stay until just before school started back up," Ben explained. "That's a long time, Adrian. You wouldn't see Mercy for a really long time. And – and I…I don't know if I can do that. Parent all by myself, I mean. Even with my dad there, I just – don't know."

Adrian nodded. "Well, I guess we have something more to think about then, don't we?"

"I'll have to talk to my dad about it," Ben said finally. "We'll see. We'll work something out." He crossed Adrian's room to the bassinet, where his daughter lay bundled up, sleeping without a care in the world. He blew her a kiss and then reached for his cell phone which sat on Adrian's dresser.

"Calling your driver?" she asked cautiously.

"Yeah."

Adrian shrugged. "You don't have to."

"I don't want to wake her up. I'm sure she'll wake up and torture you later anyway. Unless you're hoping to wake her up now so she'll be asleep later? Is that what your game is?" he joked, winking at the Latina.

"Actually, no, but that's not a bad idea." Adrian stood up and reached for his phone, extracting it from his hand before he could dial the last number. "I was thinking you could stay over."

"Wh – what?"

"You heard me."

"But – you and I – we-"

"I could throw some new sheets on my mom's bed for you. Or make up the couch." Adrian shrugged. "It's late, Ben. Why bother your driver tonight? And besides, my mom's not coming home until Wednesday and since she and George broke up, he's not going to be here either. Hell, you could even sleep in my bed for all I care." She flashed him a winning grin. "It's not like we haven't done worse before, right?" she smirked, shooting a sideways glance at the bassinet.

Ben's face bloomed. "I'll take the couch."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes?"

Adrian grinned.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The following morning, Grace descended the stairs, following the pervasive smell of freshly baked pancakes. She stopped just outside the kitchen, listening to the sounds of her mother's and brother's footsteps and then their voices.

"Tom! You didn't have to cook again this morning. I was trying to get down here early so_ I_ could cook for _you_."

"Wha's uh matter? Are you tire' of m' cookin'?"

"No. Not at all, honey. I just need to do something to be busy. I'm feeling a little blue."

"_Still?"_

"Still. I think it's going to take me longer than a week. Might take me longer than a year…might take me a lifetime."

"Don' get me wrong: I miss Dad. But as Pocahontas said, '_All_ must die.'"

"You know, Tom? That's not exactly comforting at a time like this. 'All must die'?"

Grace pressed her hand to her forehead. The smell of the pancakes was intoxicating, especially to her growling stomach, but she wasn't sure she could handle sitting down at the breakfast table to eat a proper family breakfast, because it would never be proper again, not without her father there.

"But it's true! We all die sometime. Now, you know, he went to heaven, and you will see him again. Have a lil' faif!"

"Honey, I'm going to need more than a little faith to be where you are with this. You have been really strong!"

Grace chose that moment to enter the kitchen. She walked in just to see her mother lay her hand on her brother's shoulder and stopped short as she caught the elder blonde's eye. She pursed her lips, not sure what to say, so she cleared her throat instead, to announce her presence to Tom.

"Grace!" Kathleen said, her pink mouth stretching into a smile. "Good morning! You look beautiful, sweetheart."

Tom nodded. "Yes, you do. Wha' happened?"

Grace smoothed her hands over her silky teal baby doll top. "I dunno," she breathed. "I just decided I'm going to go down to the school today."

Kathleen reflexively squeezed Tom's shoulder in surprise. "Honey, the school year's over-"

"But you said that the school said – because of the circumstances – I could make up my finals before July, otherwise I would have to attend summer school." She shook her head. "I don't want to go to summer school."

"Are you sure?" Kathleen pressed. "It's only the twenty-second, you still have until the thirtieth."

"I'm sure," the cheerleader nodded. "I just want to get them over and done with and out of my way. I'm stressed out enough as it is and I didn't do all that hard work all year long just to end up going to summer school because I couldn't finish all my finals the last week of school."

"You could wait until tomorrow. I was thinking that today we could all go talk with Reverend Stone. You know, just kind of check in with where we are, where we want to be…how we want to handle things, get help if we need it…_talk_."

Grace looked away. "You and Tom can go. I don't want to talk to Reverend Stone, I just want to finish the school year."

"We can talk to someone else if you want. He's given me the name of a very good grief counselor-"

"I said no," she said firmly. "I – I'm not trying to be rude, but _no_. I don't want to talk to Reverend Stone, I don't want to talk to anybody. Not today, not tomorrow. I'm not going to grieve by talking to so-called experts." She turned her back to them. "I'm going to go get my things," she said quietly. "I'll meet you in the car."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I need you to watch Mercy today," Adrian called from the bathroom, as she ran the brush through her black tresses. "I have an appointment."

"An appointment?"

Adrian pulled the hair from the brush and tossed it into the trash. She examined herself in the mirror, smoothing her shirt and then holding her hands to the sides of her bust, adjusting the underwire beneath her pink striped shirt, which showed just enough ample cleavage to make her happy. Satisfied, she pulled open the door to find Ben wrestling with Mercy at the changing table. "A doctor's appointment," she clarified.

Ben had the collar of his shirt pulled up over his nose as he held his daughter with one hand and tried to roll up the messy brown filled diaper with the other. Simultaneously, he tried to nod, only for his shirt to fall down as he did so. His face immediately screwed up and his eyes began to water. _"Oh!"_

Mercy cooed and randomly batted her arms – and to some extent, her legs, even though Ben was holding them like he would if he were preparing a Thanksgiving turkey – as her mother approached.

"Hey, _Preciosista_," Adrian cooed, grabbing her baby girl by her tiny hands and patting them together in Patty Cake fashion. "Daddy's going to take care of you today, alright? Mommy will see you later." She pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead, leaving a shimmery pink gloss stain in the shape of her lips. "I'll see you later, Ben!" she winked.

Ben cringed as he tossed the soiled diaper into the Diaper Genie and grabbed for the baby wipes. He knew that, eventually, they would begin alternating Mercy between their homes, but today would be the first day that he'd have her entirely to himself, and things already seemed off to a rocky start. Sighing, Ben used several wipes until the mess was taken care of, dutifully applied the baby powder, and then sealed the fresh diaper up. "I think Daddy's off his game today," he said as he picked Mercy up and pressed his forehead to hers. "What do you think: do you want to go to Italy with Daddy? Do you think Daddy is up for taking care of you all by himself in Italty?"

Mercy merely extended her arms, curled her tiny toes, and made a low noise that sounded a bit like a squeaky pet toy.

Ben groaned. "Yeah, _me too_."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I had sex last night."

Dr. Fields leaned forward curiously. "And what significance does that have?" He studied the silent teenager. "Was it with Adrian?"

"No." Ricky looked down at his lap. "Zoe."

"Zoe?"

"She's on the track team."

"Have you been with her before?"

"Last night was the first time."

"And what happened?" Dr. Fields pressed. "You wouldn't have brought it up unless it was important, would you?"

Ricky averted his attention to the wall. "I – I couldn't…"

"You couldn't ejaculate?" Dr. Fields speculated.

Ricky closed his eyes, hugging his stomach. "No. She was getting angry with me and I got angry with her."

"Did the anger help?"

"No."

"So you left unsatisfied?"

"And. No. Yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I had to think of her, okay?" Ricky snarled. "I had to think of Adrian! I had to _pretend_ Zoe was Adrian in order to finish!"

"And this has never happened before?"

"No!" Ricky threw a pillow at the wall. "What does that mean?" he hissed. "What's wrong with me?"

"It sounds like you're having a case of psychosexual dysfunction."

"Oh yeah!" Ricky replied sarcastically. "I couldn't have diagnosed that myself!"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Dr. Fields continued coolly. "You will need to get a physical exam to completely rule out any physical problems, but I'm fairly positive in my diagnosis."

"What do I _do _about it?" Ricky demanded.

"I'm afraid there aren't any medications I can prescribe for your particular problem, Ricky. It's very much tied up in your recent relations – and lack thereof – with Adrian. Ideally, you would be able to work through them if you could sort out those issues with her, particularly in a counseling setting."

"You're crazy!"

Dr. Fields held up his hands in a defensive posture. "I'm not telling you what to do, I'm just telling you what you _can_ do. Certainly, we can continue our regular meetings as are – or even increase them – but there's not a lot more _I_ can do for you."

"A lot a' good you are!"

Dr. Fields researched for a pad of sticky notes on his desk. "I can give you the names of a few sex therapists, if you're interested. Their expertise is in exactly these types of problems and they might be able to help you better than I could." He scribbled a few names onto the sticky and then handed it across to Ricky, who refused to take it. With a sigh, he stuck the sticky to the table. "It's up to you, Ricky. You do what you think is best, I'm only trying to help."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Have you had any bleeding or tenderness, Ms. Lee?"

Adrian sat on the gynecologist's table in a uniform blue medical gown. "No bleeding, not for a week or so now. Some breast tenderness, but I was told that would be normal, especially since I'm breast feeding."

The gynecologist nodded. "And how are you feeling emotionally? Any depressive thoughts?"

"No." Adrian smiled. "None. I'm – I'm surprisingly happy! I never thought I could be this happy, you know? As a teenage mother in high school, but I am. Mercy is – she's everything. She's_ perfect_. Well, except for the waking up in the middle of the night and the spitting up…that's been a problem. I've been so tired lately. I can't imagine how much worse it might have been if I'd still been in school, trying to juggle my classes and everything, instead of on bed rest and turning in my assignments online."

The gynecologist made a couple of notes onto her clipboard and then lifted her head again. "Good. And how has your diet been? Have you been exercising?"

"I've been sticking to the food pyramid," Adrian promised. "I've bought all the right things, I'm taking my vitamins…I haven't had much time for exercise though."

"What about your Kegal exercises?"

"Every day, after I get up and before I go to bed. Sometimes while I'm in the car at a stop light too," she chuckled.

"Have you been having sex?"

Adrian ardently shook her head. "No. I was told not until at least after the checkup."

"What about birth control?"

"I'm back on the pill." She adjusted herself on the bed. "But I was wondering about that: _if_ I wanted to start having sex again…"

"You've healed up nicely," the OB/GY nodded. "I don't see why not. Though I'd highly recommend staying on birth control. Some women believe that breast feeding is a natural birth control and in many cases, it does work to prevent pregnancy, but not in all cases, and some women end up with two children under the age of a year."

Adrian shook her head. "Oh no, I definitely do_ not_ plan on having another. Not any time soon, anyway."

"Then you should be fine." She made a final notation on her clipboard and then trashed her latex gloves and offered a hand to Adrian. "I think we're done then," she declared. "Just make sure you see the nurse about setting up your next routine exam on your way out."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Done already?"

"I guess," Grace dismissed as she got into the passenger seat of her mother's car.

"How do you think you do?"

"Well enough to pass, God willing."

Kathleen started the engine. "Do you want to go anywhere? Do anything?"

Grace pressed her face to the glass. "I don't care."

"What about the Diary Shack?" Kathleen suggested thoughtfully. "You must be starving, you didn't eat any of the pancakes Tom made this morning."

"Why don't we just go home? I can heat some leftovers up in the microwave."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, thanks."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Hi, babyyyyyy!" Tom crooned. They were in the living room and he was knelt down on the floor, hovering over Mercy's baby carrier. Every so often he would tickle the little girl's toes or tummy, then he would make a contorted face in the hopes of getting a coo out of her.

Ben watched the scene with amusement. Usually Mercy didn't like people in her face – just one of the many ways he noted how much like her mother she was – but for whatever reason, she seemed overly receptive to Tom's antics. The few times that he and Adrian had been around Tom, he had kind of suspected that the older boy had a bit of a crush on Adrian, and frankly, he couldn't blame him, so he wasn't surprises by the way he took to Mercy.

"Do you know when Grace is going to be home?" he finally asked.

Tom shrugged, not really paying attention to him. "Dunno," he said, tugging his finger up when Mercy wrapped her miniature fist around it. "She wen' t' do tests," he explained. "Who knows when she get home."

Ben let his head fall against the back edge of the count and stared aimlessly up at the ceiling. He'd been waiting for almost a half an hour. He hadn't heard from Adrian, so he'd decided to have his driver take him over to Grace's, to see how she was faring. He'd seen her only a couple times since the funeral, careful to not be overbearing with his attention – he knew from experience how frustrating that was – but also to not just abandon her either. Their visits hadn't amounted to much, however, so this time he thought he'd bring Mercy along and perhaps that would lift her spirits.

The lock on the front door croaked and a few moments later Grace edged into the room, spotting Ben immediately. "Ben, I saw the limo outside," she said, confused. "What are you doing here?"

Ben motioned towards his daughter and Tom. "Mercy and I came by to see how you were doing. In hindsight, we probably should've called first, huh?"

Grace looked back at Tom and the corners of her mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly.

"It's nice to see you, Ben," Kathleen interrupted.

"How've you been, Mrs. Bowman?"

"Better," she said. "Barely, but still, better than I was. Thank you."

"She's gotten so big," Grace said, suddenly beside her brother. "I can't believe how big she's gotten."

"She seems to double in size every day," Ben laughed.

"Can I, uh, hold her?"

"Yeah!" Ben readily agreed. "Of course! She – she misses her 'Aunt' Grace." He edged around Tom and carefully removed the restrains on her daughter, picked her up, and bounced her in his arms. "Here," he smiled, depositing Mercy into Grace's arms.

Grace bounced the little Latina, her frown quickly turning upside down as the little girl tangled her fingers into her blonde locks. She stroked the velvety black hair on Mercy's head and giggled, which surprised everyone in the room except for the baby herself. "Hi there," she whispered. "Look at you, you're so big!"

Across the living room, Kathleen looked silently to Ben and mouthed: 'Thank you.'

"Her two month appointment is coming up pretty quick. I can't believe it's already been that long."

"Where's Adrian?" Grace suddenly asked, not once taking her eyes off the precious caramel crème skinned cargo.

"Doctor's appointment. She should be done any time now, though." He shrugged. "You interested in going out and doing anything? We could grab a bite to eat or something."

"Thanks, but no thanks, I'm not really in the mood for fast food." She snuggled the infant to her chest. "Do you have plans or something? If not, maybe you could…stay for a while?"

Ben grinned as Mercy grabbed for Grace's hair again. "We'd love to."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

At 12:43 A.M. Adrian awoke to the sound of Mercy's violent sobs. She stayed awake in the darkness for a few minutes, marinating in guilt for not wanting to crawl out of her warm covers to attend to her helpless daughter. When the noise became to overbearing, she eventually squeezed out of the blankets and sat up to collect her screaming bundle from the bassinet.

As she unbuttoned her blouse, she found herself wishing Ben was there again, so he could just grab a pre-pumped bottle and take care of the situation and let her sleep. Selfishly, she found herself looking forward to the days when Mercy would finally begin spending nights at Ben's house. Even more selfishly, she found herself hoping Ben would agree to take Mercy with him to Bologna. Granted, it wasn't the only reason she'd suggested it, but as she thought more and more about it, it was a significant bonus.

"_Bologna,"_ she whispered to her suckling daughter. "Would you like Italy, Mercy?" She stood up and wandered over to her computer desk and hit the power button on the tower with her big toe. She cranked her neck, stretching the sleep deprived muscles, and entered her recently changed password one handedly.

Once she was able to access her Internet browser, she typed _ciao_ into the Google search box the drop down menu provided her with the four most popular options: _ciao_, _ciao bella_, _ciao italia_, and _ciao definition_. She already knew that the word was an Italian greeting and parting, so, on a whim, she clicked on the second option. Once clicked, the third link down on the search responded: _Can anyone tell me what ciao bella means?_ Lazily, she clicked on the inquiry and her eyes glazed over the responses.

"'Hello, beautiful.'" Adrian tasted the English translation on her lips. "Or, 'goodbye, beautiful."" She glanced down at her now contented daughter. _"Ciao bella."_ She closed her eyes. There had only ever been three men who had ever called her beautiful: Antonio, Ben, and Ricky. She mused over that fact for a while, thinking about how different her life could've turned out if Antonio had never gotten cancer or if Ben had never caught her that afternoon at the abortion clinic. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the buzzing of her cell phoned. Drearily, she flipped it open.

_Are you still awake?_

_Unfortunately._

Adrian grinned. _So you're the one our daughter inherited insomnia from?_

_Your light's burned out._

_What?_

_By your front door._

"What?" Adrian squinted her eyes and looked suspiciously at her bedroom door. _Where are you?_ A moment later, she heard the doorbell and scurried as fast as she could, without disturbing Mercy, to the door. When she opened it, she found Ben hurriedly typing something onto his cell phone on the other end. "What do you think you're doing?"

Ben smiled sheepishly. "I liked staying the night," he admitted. "And since it's already so late again…"

"Get in here!" Adrian grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the apartment, almost tripping him as he went.

Ben shoved his cell into his jacket pocket and admired his sleeping daughter. "She looks so peaceful."

"You're about twenty minutes too late." Adrian suddenly pushed Mercy at him. "To make up, you can put her back to bed."

Ben nuzzled Mercy's cheek as he walked back to Adrian's room and laid her in the bassinet, safe and sound. When he stood up to make his way back to the couch, he found Adrian blocking the doorway. He swallowed uneasily. "Um…"

"You can sleep in here tonight," she said, not leaving the topic open for discussion. "Easier access…to Mercy. FYI, next time she starts crying, _you're up_." She flicked off the lights and crawled back into bed, which was now lukewarm. She listened to the sounds of Ben removing his shoes and jacket and then closed her eyes as she felt his weight fill the other side of her bed and contentedly drifted off to sleep.


	5. Sworn Free

**A/N: **I know it has taken months to update this. I'm really sorry. I had a case of major writer's block. Partly because "Born Free" was so heavily based upon the Anne/David pregnancy and Leo's engagement to Betty, neither of which are in this story, and I was wasn't finding the inspiration for the replacement storylines.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Sworn Free**

"Does that make me a bad mother?" Adrian queried.

Dr. Fields studied her curiously. "The fact that you're looking forward to two months away from your daughter?"

"Newborn daughter," the teenager corrected.

He shook his head. "Adrian, you're a new mother in high school, who has been through an inordinate amount of trauma the last few months. The feelings that you're having – as conflicting or betraying as they may seem – are completely normal."

"But how is it okay for a mother to _want_ to abandon her child?"

"You're feeling overworked and confusing that with the idealization of abandonment. You simply crave time to rest and recuperate. I can tell you, not just as your therapist but as a father, that's not uncommon. Sometimes the stress of parenting is so intense you just feel as though you need to get away-"

"Or you might implode."

"Exactly."

"But do you think that's fair to Ben?"

"How do you mean?"

"Thrusting all that responsibility on him for so long; all by himself."

"You don't think he's capable?"

"It's not that," she sighed. "I just feel guilty. I know how stressed out of my mind I am right now and I can remember how it used to be for my mom growing up. I know it's only for two months and Mr. Boykewich will be with him, but he'll still be in a completely foreign environment and I couldn't be there to help, even if I wanted to."

"Unless you took him up on his invitation."

"Which isn't an option. Not with Grace." Adrian pressed her manicured fingers to her temples. "What do you think I should do?"

Dr. Fields shook his head sympathetically. "You know I can't answer that for you."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Grace was perched at the kitchen table as Tom waltzed in and began to raid the refrigerator. She was attempting to read the newspaper and sip on a mug of orange juice, but her eyes wouldn't stop wandering. Suddenly she looked up at her brother again and dropped the paper as she noticed the brown robe that was adorning his frame. "I – is that Dad's robe? Are you _wearing_ Dad's robe?"

Tom abruptly turned around, holding the milk carton. He shrugged, hit the door with his behind, and moved to the drainer as if he hadn't heard his sister's question at all.

Grace's knuckles began to blanch around her mug of orange juice. She slammed it down on the counter, splattering the bright liquid everywhere and soaking half of the newspaper. "Take that off!" she yelled, suddenly lunging for her brother.

Tom ducked to the left and when Grace matched him, he arched to the right. All the while, he smiled, as if it was a simple game of cat-and-mouse.

"Take that off!" Grace bellowed. _"Take it off!"_ She latched onto the sleeve of brown sleeve of the robe, easily able to snatch because it hung down from Tom's arm, clearly too big for him. "Tom!"

"Help!"

"_Tom!"_

"Help! Help me!"

Kathleen charged in, one shoe on and the other still in her hand. She dropped it as soon as she spotted the altercation and promptly wedged herself into the middle of it, prying her daughter's hands off the robe sleeve and then shielding her son with her body. "Grace: stop!"

Grace lunged at Tom again, only to be netted by her mother as she watched the brunette sneak out of the kitchen. "But he's wearing Dad's robe!"

"It's okay!"

"It's _not _okay!"

"He wanted it!" Kathleen responded desperately, shaking her head at a loss. "I gave it to him."

"Why would you do that?" Grace snarled.

"Grace!"

"Is that what you do when I'm up in my room?" the teenager demanded. "You just give away Dad's stuff to people?"

"Honey, it's just a robe! And Tom's your brother!"

"And his watch!" Tom's voice called from the other room.

Grace took a step towards the sound of Tom's voice, but was again blocked by her mother. She made a rabid noise and barred her teeth like a feral animal.

"Grace, stop this! We can go through his things – right now in fact – and find something you want."

"I want his robe. And his watch. And everything else that's his! I don't want anybody else to have any of his stuff!"

"Grace!"

"No!" Grace fought free of the confines that were her mother's arms. "Just leave me alone. Just leave me alone!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Sorry, sorry," Adrian repeated as she dug into her purse to retrieve her ringing cellular phone. "I thought I turned it off, I could have sworn to it."

Instead of looking angry, Dr. Fields actually looked amused. "That tune," he said, seemingly oblivious to her plight. "Is that 'My Favorite Things'? The instrumental version of Julie Andrews's 'My Favorite Things'?"

Adrian nodded. "How'd you know?"

"My son used to watch _The Sound of Music_ all the time when he was little!" he chuckled.

"It's my text ringtone." Adrian's brow creased. "And it's from Grace," she added, as another message intruded on the screen. "It looks like she's pretty upset."

Dr. Fields nodded. "We only have five minutes left," he spoke understandingly. "Why don't you go check in on her?"

"Are you sure?"

Dr. Fields nodded. "It's fine. Although, if it bothers you, we could make it up next week."

Adrian quickly punched her thumbs against the keypad on her cell. "Thanks, I appreciate that." She gathered her purse and jacket into her arms and rose to her feet. "I'll see you next week then."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Ben?" Leo's voice called from the other side of the bedroom door. Then there was a knock, followed by a twisting door handle, and Leo poked his head into his son's room.

Ben shimmied out of the closet with a stack of t-shirts draped over one arm and hangers of pants lined across the other. Nearly all of his drawers were open and various pieces of clothing were strewn about the bedroom. On top of his bed were two pieces of a luggage set, both nearly empty.

"Looks like a tornado tore through here," Leo frowned.

Ben stumbled over to his bed and pushed the clothes he was holding into a haphazard pile. "I wasn't sure what to take."

"Clearly." Leo entered the room and moved to the clothes. He began to sort through the mess, picking up a few choice shirts here and a couple of pairs of pants there. "It's not like you're moving there, son."

"But it's for two months!" Ben protested. "Who knows what could happen in two months? Sun, rain, snow…" Suddenly he glanced across the room to his closed drawer and bolted for it. "Hey, do they have a pool?" he asked, pulling a pair of swim trunks out of the drawer. "It's a hotel, they must have a pool. I can't believe I forgot my swim trunks!"

Leo laughed heartily. "They have a pool. The suites also have Jacuzzis. And your uncle has laundry facilities, so you don't need to bring everything you own. In fact…" He surveyed the mess. "Just bring two weeks worth of clothes and make sure they can mix-and-match. Then throw in your trunks and a jacket and you should be fine as far as clothes go. Besides, you'll probably be bringing more home than you'll be taking with you anyway."

"Good point." Ben folded the trunks and set them into one of his suitcases. He gingerly took the clothes his father had cherry picked for him and added them to the mix, followed by an armful of socks, underwear, and two sets of pajamas. "I guess that's all, sans toiletries." Suddenly his jaw slackened. "What about Mercy?" he said suddenly. "What do I pack for her?"

The panic on his son's face caused Leo to laugh again. He raised his hand in a stopping motion. "Don't worry about it, son. I'll pack up Mercy's things."

"But-"

"You've already stressed yourself over your own things. Really, I've packed for a baby before," he winked. "I think I can do it again. We'll consult with Adrian before we leave though, just in case there's anything she might suggest that slipped my mind."

Ben touched his forehead. "That reminds me," he murmured, moving to his bookshelf. He pulled an armful of baby books out and piled them on top of his clothes. "I still can't believe I'm going to be – essentially – a single father for two months."

"It's not easy," Leo warned, his voice turning somber. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

Ben moved to his dresser and picked up his camcorder. "No, but I wasn't up for being a father in the first place, and look at me now. I think I can handle it. Right?" He flashed the camcorder in his father's direction. "It'll be a growing experience at any rate and I don't want to miss out on any of it." He tucked the camcorder and blank tapes into their custom carrying case, zipped it up, and set it beside his luggage.

Abruptly, a muffled cry pierced the room. Leo turned curiously and peeled a sock off of Ben's dress, revealing the baby monitor. He nodded. "Better get in there so you don't miss out."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I got over here as fast as I could," Adrian said as she walked into her best friend's room. "Grace, are you okay?"

"Am I okay? Obviously I'm not, otherwise you wouldn't be asking me that." Grace was seated in the middle of her bed, with her knees pulled up to her chest. "I hate that everyone keeps asking me that!"

"I'm sorry," Adrian frowned. "You're – right. I hate when people ask me that too."

Grace shook her head and began to rock back and forth. "I'm sorry," she said suddenly.

Adrian shook her head. "No need. I understand, sometimes you just need to get something out and it doesn't matter who's around. No need to apologize for that."

"Thanks for coming," the blonde whispered.

Adrian sat down beside her. "What's wrong?"

Grace closed her wet eyes. "I thought the funeral would be the hardest part," she mumbled into her knees. "I thought I'd gotten over that. I mean, not gotten over it, but-"

"I know what you mean," Adrian soothed. She ran her hands over Grace's blonde waves.

"But then this morning I was eating breakfast and trying to be somewhat normal again and then Tom just comes downstairs wearing my dad's robe!"

"What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with it?" Grace barked. "You sound like my mom! _Everything's_ wrong with it!"

Adrian stopped stroking Grace's hair. "Like I told you on the day of your dad's funeral: you're not the only one suffering, Grace."

"I know that!"

"So did you ever stop to think that maybe by wearing his robe, Tom gets a sense of comfort from it?"

Grace looked at Adrian blearily. "But – it's not the same. He's going to ruin it. What if he spills something on it? What if he rips it? He's going to wear it and then all of dad's smell is going to disappear and soon it won't be dad's robe anymore, it'll just be _Tom's_."

"Your dad's got an entire closet full of clothes that have his smell. Let Tom have one robe. He probably misses that smell too."

Grace wiped her wet cheek against her knee. "I just don't want things to change."

"It's a little late for that."

Grace dropped her head against Adrian's shoulder. "Sometimes I just wish I could get away," she whispered. "Just drop everything and escape somewhere for awhile and not be burdened with any of this. I just want to be free of everything."

Adrian let her head dip sideways, onto it was barely resting atop Grace's. She wrapped one arm around the blonde's shoulders. "I know what you mean."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"What is this?"

Ricky was in the kitchen, slathering blackberry jelly onto the peanut butter and jelly sandwich h was making for the sack lunch he was taking to his community service at Big Brothers Big Sisters. He looked up at the sound of Margaret's voice and froze when he saw the yellow sticky note she was holding. "It's nothing!"

Margaret pulled her arm back as Ricky shot across the kitchen to take it from her. "Your body language says otherwise."

"Why were you snooping through my things?" he demanded. "I haven't done anything that would warrant you to go snooping."

"I wasn't snooping, unless you consider doing the laundry snooping. I know you usually do your own laundry, but I was trying to be helpful and I found this in your pocket. It looks like Dr. Fields's handwriting."

Ricky shook his head in disgust. "I knew I shouldn't have given in and taken it!" he scowled.

"What's going on?"

"It's private."

"Ricky-"

"It's private!" he insisted. He returned to his sandwich. "You may be my mom," he warned, "but that doesn't give you a right to know everything about me. I'm nearly an adult. Hell, I've been forty since I was four. If something dangerous was going on, Dr. Fields would have informed you himself. But there's not, so whatever I talk about with him is between me and him, which includes everything pertaining to that note."

Margaret slid into a chair at the kitchen table. "I see." She stuck the note to one of the placemats and folded her hands together. "I do understand that you're growing up and that you don't feel comfortable telling me everything, but I'm still your mother, Ricky, and as such, that won't stop me from worrying about you. If you find that in the future-"

"I need to talk, I will. But right now, I don't." He cut his sandwich diagonally and slid both slices into a plastic bag. Next, he moved to the table and pulled the sticky note off the table. "I know you care." He bent down and kissed Margaret on the cheek. "I love you, Mom. I know you'll always be here for me, but there are some things that I just have to deal with on my own, okay?" 

"Okay."

Ricky returned to the counter and dropped his baggy into a brown paper bag. He heard his mother quietly slide her chair back and leave the room, then he glanced down at the sticky note in his hand and his eyes glazed over the sex therapists that Dr. Fields had written down for him. He didn't even know why he'd taken the note before he'd left anyway. If he went to one of the therapists, they'd bill his parents' insurance, and sooner or later, both his mother and father would know who he was seeing and – even if they didn't know exactly why – it wouldn't be hard to figure out the general idea.

Just because they knew about his past sexual abuse and even knew about his sexual reputation thanks to the small town gossip, the idea of them knowing that he couldn't perform – let alone exactly why – was mortifying. Shaking his head, Ricky crumpled up the sticky and shoved it into his pocket. As an afterthought, he pulled it back out and dropped it into his sack lunch bag so that there was no way he would forget it in his pants pocket again. His mother questioning him was enough for one day, he didn't need his father to somehow find the note and grill him as well.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Grace, honey?"

Grace sat up at the sound of her mother's voice. It was late and Adrian had left hours ago. "What?" she snapped as soon as she heard knocking at her door because she hadn't answered.

"Someone's here to see you."

"I don't want to see anyone right now."

"He says he's been trying to get a hold of you."

Grace narrowed her eyes and debated whether or not to crawl off her bed. Finally, she found herself at her door and opened it just a hair so she could see her mother's eye. "He?"

"Yes, he says he's a friend from school…Jason?"

"Jason?" Grace squinted. Her mind flashed back to the day her father had died, outside Mr. Molina's office. "Jason Treacy?" she asked.

Kathleen nodded. "He's down in the living room right now."

Grace shook her head. "I-"

"He came all the way over here to see you, Grace."

Grace sighed deeply. "Fine. Tell him I'll be down in a few minutes." She didn't even know why she'd agreed to see him, but she shut the door anyway and proceeded to drag her hairbrush through her limp curls a few times and check her tear streaked face in the mirror. Grace wiped her cheeks to smooth away the lines and applied a thin layer of cherry lip balm that had a faint pink tint to it. Satisfied, she slipped on a pair of ballet flats and tiptoed downstairs, where she found her mother and Tom sitting on the sofa opposite Jason, entrenched in a conversation.

As soon as she noticed her, Kathleen waived merrily. "Grace, honey, I'm so glad you came down. Jason was just telling us more about the Young Healers Camp program this summer."

"We di'n't know he wa' goin' too," Tom said, narrowing his eyes at his sister.

Grace shook her head. "Not 'too,'" she corrected. "Just Jason. I'm not going. I'm not going anywhere this summer, that's why I agreed to do my finals, so I wouldn't have to go anywhere."

"Your father really wanted you to go," Kathleen exhaled.

"And I really want my father, but we can't all get what we want, can we?"

Jason shook his head. "I'm sorry about your father, Grace. That's part of the reason I stopped by to see you. I tried to give my condolences at the funeral, but there were so many people around that I never got a chance to talk with you one-on-one."

"Thanks, but you didn't need to do that."

Kathleen rose uncomfortably. "Tom and I were just getting ready to drop by the Dairy Shack. Would either of you like us to bring you back something?"

Jason shook his head. "Thank you, Mrs. Bowman, but I just ate."

"I'm not hungry."

Kathleen nodded. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Jason." She shook his hand and ushered Tom up. "Goodbye, if we don't see you before we get back."

Grace cast a dark glare at her mother's back as she and Tom headed for the door, all the while Tom whispering to Kathleen and vaguely pointing back to the living room. When they'd finally left, Grace took Tom's vacated seat on the sofa and folded her hands tightly into her lap. "I got your e-mails," she said finally. "I'm sorry you wasted your time coming over here, Jason, but I'm not going to med camp this summer."

"Oh." Jason nodded. "Well, uh…" He looked around the living room uncertainly. "I'm sorry to hear that. I was really looking forward to attending with you."

"I was looking forward to attending with you too," she agreed. "But I just can't now."

He nodded. "Hopefully they'll offer it to you again next summer."

"Hopefully."

"But, Grace: I don't think they do that. This program's really hard to get into. It's kind of a once in a high school lifetime opportunity."

"Did my mom put you up to this?"

Jason blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Trying to make me feel guilty for not going like my dad wanted me to?"

"What?" Jason shook his head, flustered and clearly a bit offended. "No, of course not!"

Grace recoiled. "I'm sorry," she said reflexively. "I just – _I know. _It's a very prestigious program and an amazing opportunity. Under nearly any other circumstance, I would be over the moon about going."

"I understand."

"I look forward to hearing all about it from you when you get back," she said, trying in vain to smile.

Jason stood up. "I'll take pictures," he promised.

"I'd like that." Grace rose awkwardly. The silence hung thick around them, like San Francisco fog. Finally she motioned her hand. "I'll walk you to the door." She mentally chastised herself as she moved in front of him for sounding so lame. "Thank you for coming over. I really mean that."

"I was glad to," Jason nodded as he stepped onto the porch. "If you want, you can e-mail me over the summer."

Grace nodded. "I'll think about it. Have a great summer, Jason."

"You too."

Grace shut the door. After a moment, she leaned forward on her toes to look out the peek hole and watch as he got into his car and drove away. She felt a pinging deep in her chest and folded her arms across herself. Silently, stiffly, she ascended the stairs as though she were sleepwalking. She found her parents' bedroom – now just her mother's bedroom – and turned the handle until it clicked. She hadn't been into the room since before her father's death. With heavy steps, she moved to the closet and pushed back the right door.

A wave of familial cologne mixed with Tide detergent caressed Grace's face. Marshall's side of the closet still looked exactly the same, though she knew that it was a trick of the eyes: Tom still had his robe. And his watch. Who knows who could have had anything else. Gingerly, Grace pushed her hand forward and touched front of one of his ties. She felt a pressure well in her throat, almost like a hiccup, but she suppressed it. Then she stepped closer until the toes of her shoes were overlapping the track of the closet. She walked her fingers across the clothing until they came to a long white sleeve, with a rolled up cuff.

She felt her eyes stinging as she gave the sleeve a tug, pulling it off the hanger in the way that her father had always told her not to do. The article of clothing immediately fluttered to the ground and the only sound in the room was that of the swinging metal hanger creaking on the wooden rack. Grace dropped to her knees at the pile and wadded her hands into it in an attempt to pick it up, revealing it as her father's white lab coat at the pediatrics office. _Dr. Bowman_ had even been embroidered onto the breast pocket, courtesy of Grace herself.

For ten minutes, Grace sat alone with the lab coat, shaking as she held it to her chest. Then she pressed her face to the fabric, inhaling her father's smell. She traced the letters on the pocket with her fingertip and, finally, she opened it up and slipped one arm into the sleeve. Cautiously, she slipped the other arm in and pulled the coat tight around her body. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, turning spots on the collar of the lab coat slightly translucent as she got to her feet. It was too long for her, so she gathered the ends like a dress and shuffled over to her parents' floor length mirror. She could barely see her own reflection through her tears, so she wiped her eyes with her dad's sleeve, and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

"Dr. Bowman," she wheezed, absently touching the embroidery. That was all she'd ever dreamed of being, as far back as she could remember. Her father had always been a doctor and she remembered sitting on his knee with a toy stethoscope as a child and listening to his heart and sworn – in all certainty – that she would grow up to be just like him. And in truth, she was: his heart was permanently broken and so was hers.


	6. The Drummer Of Our Discontent

**A/N: **A part near the end of this chapter is rated R for language and sexual situations, just as a warning.

_**Turning Tables**_

**The Drummer Of Our Discontent**

"More of Dad's things?" Grace asked as she walked into the kitchen to find her mother folding up a burgundy sweater. The kitchen table was littered with cardboard boxes in varying degrees of fullness, with many even taped shut.

"Yeah," Kathleen admitted guiltily. "The church was gathering some donations for the homeless."

Grace brushed her hand across the shirt after Kathleen set it in the box. "Dad was always donating to the church's homeless drives."

"I know, that's why I thought it would be appropriate."

Grace looked away. "Why is this so easy for you? How can you just pack up his things and leave them on the curb? It's too soon, Mom. It's not right!"

"I'm not just leaving his things on the curb. You said yourself he was always giving to the homeless: I'm just doing what he would do if he were still here. I'm donating clothes he didn't wear…and, okay, maybe some he did wear, but someone could really use these clothes and you know that. Your dad can't wear them anymore, but someone that doesn't have as much as he did can. That's what your dad would want."

"Yeah," Grace spat. "Just like he'd _want_ me to go to med camp."

"He would. He helped you apply for that very reason and he'd be so happy that you got in, Grace. In fact, I'm sure he already knows that, and is very proud of you, even though he can't be here right now to tell you himself. Now I'm not saying that you have to go – I'm not trying to force you – but I'm just pointing out how much your father wanted this for you. And how much _you_ wanted this for you."

"I just don't get it: you're so quick to give up all his things and then you want me gone too. _Why?_"

"Is that part of the reason you won't go? Because you don't want to leave Tom and I? Gracie, Tom and I would be fine if you wanted to go."

"I don't want to go."

"You don't have to be strong for us, Grace."

"But I do need to be the one to mourn for you, because obviously you aren't doing it yourselves."

"Grace!" Kathleen grabbed her by the arm and forced her to sit down in one of the chairs. "I know you're hurting, but lashing out at Tom and I the way you have been is unacceptable. Everyone mourns in their own way. I miss your father as much as you do. So does Tom. We're just coping with it differently."

"Well the way you're coping is _hurting me!_"

Kathleen's grip on Grace's arm lessened and the lines in her face softened. "Grace, your father was such a giving man. All he ever thought about was helping others. And he would be so pleased to see you complete this program and get the best possible education in medicine that you could have. _Not_ that you have to go to that program this summer. You don't have to go if you don't want to. You are so much like your father: he was an incredible doctor and you could be too. But no matter what you choose to do with your life, you'll end up making the world a better place, whether it's in medicine or some other way. So do what's right for you this summer: go there, stay here, go to cheerleading camp…whatever you want. But live your life, Grace. Live your life. Because that's all any of us can do: just go on living."

Grace felt her eyes well up again as she nodded her head. All of the sudden her mother's arms were around her, pulling her to her chest like a hapless infant. She curled her arms around her mother. "You said before that I could have something of Daddy's," she whispered. "I know what I want."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"So what was so important that you wanted me to come all the way down to the beach to talk with you about?" Adrian called out to him as she strode across the sand in a pair of dark violet flip-flops.

Ricky tilted his head, slightly surprised by the sling on her chest. "You brought Mercy."

"Of course I brought Mercy. You don't leave you infant child home alone."

"Your mom's gone again?"

"She's not in the air, but she's not at home either. And anyway, I can't rely on my mother to watch my daughter all the time. That's irresponsible. Besides, she's helped me out quite a bit over the last few weeks." Adrian cradled the sling and adjusted it slightly. "Is this a problem for you?"

Ricky shook his head. "No, I'm just surprised she's not with your mom or Ben or something."

"Ben's been busy coordinating for his trip. We're supposed to meet up this afternoon to make sure he's got everything Mercy needs. So, you'd better hurry up and talk to me, otherwise I'm going to have to leave."

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk about: the summer. What are your plans?"

"Relaxation, organization…I was thinking I might even look for a temporary summer job, just to make a little cash on the side. Though I'm wary after that, after everything with Lentz. Honestly: I don't know. It'll probably largely depend on what Grace does. She's the main thing I'm worried about. She's been so depressed lately and I want to be there for her."

"Oh."

"How about you?" she asked, shading her eyes from the sunlight as he turned to look at his face. "Are you going back to band camp this summer?"

"No. I was going to stay here and work on my community service."

"Community service?"

"Yeah, that was what D.A. Enriquez settled for: community service for beating my father out of severe emotional distress. They also upped my dosage of Dr. Fields. I've been serving it at Big Brothers Big Sisters. Not as a mentor – I think I'd make a pretty shitty one – but just as someone to help with the grunt work."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. It's my fault. I let my hatred get the best of me."

"I don't think I would've done anything different in your shoes."

Ricky eyed the slumbering babe against Adrian's chest. "I was thinking, since we'll both just be hanging around this summer, maybe we could hang out together?"

Adrian stopped. "I thought I made it clear to you that I'm not ready to commit to any kind of relationship right now. Not anything other than building my relationship with my daughter."

"Who will be in Italy for two months with her father."

"I don't need a placeholder."

"I just want us to be friends, Adrian. Is that too much to ask?"

"Maybe. Probably."

Ricky stepped in front of Adrian, shading her with his frame. "We had sex."

"_Ricky!"_

Ricky grabbed Adrian by the arms and firmly held her in place. "We had sex," he repeated. "That night that I waited for you to get home. I know you remember. It was the best we've ever had. And I told you that I wanted to explore _us_. I still want that, Adrian. Don't you?"

Adrian felt her arms turning to pudding in his hands. "My daughter is right here," she snapped back defiantly.

"Sleeping and not even two-months-old. Come on, Adrian! Be true to yourself: you wanted a commitment with me, so why are you backing out now? We have a chance to connect this summer, to become stronger than we've ever been. You do things to me that I can't explain. I want you in my life, Adrian. I_ need_ you in my life!" He released her arms and looked down at the baby in the sling. "And I want Mercy in my life too. I spent a long time thinking about her during your pregnancy. You know I would've been there if she'd been mine."

"But she's not yours. And neither am I."

"Two months, Adrian. Just give me these two months. Please?"

The Latina gazed down at the sunlight stroking her daughter's face as Ricky stepped to the side. She moved a finger to Mercy's cheek and touched the smooth baby skin. The instrumental for "My Favorite Things" began to play from her back pocket. Welcoming the quick distraction, she pulled out her cell phone and accessed the text messages. Her mouth caved into an oval.

"What is it?"

"It's Grace."

"Is something wrong?"

Adrian shook her head and handed him her cell phone. "Read for yourself."

_I'm going to med camp this summer._

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben thudded down the stairs, barely balancing his own luggage cases as well as a set of Disney Princesses themed luggage cases down the stairs. He was gasping when he finally deposited them all at the doorway and opted to bend down and lean on his largest case to catch his breath.

"You didn't have to bring all of them down yourself," Leo said as he entered and noticed the mass of luggage. "But thank you for bringing down mine."

"No – problem," Ben gasped. He forced a smile. "Did you get the plane tickets squared away?"

Leo nodded. "In fact, I just got off the phone with Cindy less than ten minutes ago. She said she managed to pull some of her connections at the airport and get us deep discount on the tickets."

"That's great!"

"And I was just about to head off to a meeting with Bunny and Camille to make sure we've got everything in order at the butcher shop while we're gone."

Ben glanced at his watch. "Can I hitch a ride over to Adrian's on the way? I still need to confer with her about Mercy."

Leo skirted around his son and picked up a couple of the Disney Princesses bags. "I'll even help you out to the limo."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Always."

As Leo exited the front door, Ben pulled out his cell phone and promptly texted: _Leaving for your house in five. Can't wait to see my favorite girl!_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Is this for real?" Adrian demanded. She had her left hand on the wheel and her right hand cupped around her cell phone, which was pressed to her ear. A beep sounded in her ear, alerting her to the fact that she had some kind of text or voicemail that had come in while she was on the phone.

"I'm leaving Tuesday," Grace's voice said from the speaker.

"I thought you weren't going! When did you decide this?"

"Today, actually."

Adrian glanced in the rearview mirror, spying her daughter's sleeping form in her car seat. "Not that this isn't a good thing, but why?"

"I told you Jason came over the other night, right?"

"Yeah. And you seemed pretty upset about it too."

"I wasn't upset about him, per se, but just about coming to terms with all my feelings. I let Tom keep the robe and the watch, by the way. And my mom gave me my dad's white lab coat. I've always wanted to be a doctor, just like him, Adrian. And I kind of feel like maybe this was his way of watching out for me from heaven."

"You're leaving the same day as Ben," Adrian realized.

"I'm sorry."

Adrian instinctively shook her head. "Don't be, I'm happy for you! How long is the program?"

"The last day of the program is August twenty-eighth, but I wouldn't be flying back until the twenty-ninth."

"So basically, we've just got tomorrow?" The phone beeped again.

"Well, actually…I'm packing right now, but I think I should probably try to spend tomorrow with my mom and Tom, y'know?"

Adrian gasped and suddenly hit the brake as a yellow light turned to red. The brakes screeched as she came to a stop, barely over the line. She jerked forward, but her seatbelt stopped her from slamming against the horn. Through the rearview mirror, she saw Mercy wake up and begin to wail.

"Adrian, are you alright? What's all that noise?"

"Hold on," Adrian mumbled before tossing the cell into the passenger seat and pulling off onto the side of the road. She got out and climbed into the back, working to comfort her daughter. "Mama's sorry," she soothed. "She was talking on the phone and not paying attention. Shh. You're fine." She kissed Mercy's head until the baby's tears ceased.

"Adrian? Adrian?"

Adrian slid mercy back into the car seat and reached over the seat to get her phone. "I'm sorry, Grace, I have to go. I'm almost home and Mercy needs my attention right now. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright," she replied, sounding uncertain. "I'll look forward to hearing from you."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Adrian collapsed against the backseat, breathing as though she'd just finished a majorette competition. The light on her phone was flashing, reminding her of the message that had been annoying her during her conversation with Grace. She flipped open her text messages and realized the text had been from Ben. She smiled at first, then her smile slowly turned into a frown. Turning to Mercy she announced: "We've gotta get home before Daddy does!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I was wondering when you'd be over here again," Zoe said as she opened her front door. "My parents are gone for the weekend, so we've got the whole house to ourselves." The long haired brunette looked him up and down. "Provided, of course, that you can get it up this time."

"I had no problem getting anything up last time," Ricky hissed. He charged through the door and slammed it shut.

"No," Zoe agreed. "You just couldn't finish the job."

Ricky reached for his belt, tore it free of the loops on his jeans, and tossed it onto the floor by a dog bed. He quickly unzipped his pants and let them fall around his ankles. "What are you waiting for?"

Zoe crossed her arms. "I'm not blowing you in the middle of the entry way."

"I thought you said we had the whole house to ourselves?"

"I'm not in the mood to be on my knees today." Zoe pulled off her shirt and tossed it on top of Ricky's abandoned belt, revealing a fire truck red bra underneath.

Ricky grabbed her by the hips and pushed her up against the wall. "And I'm not in the mood to look at your face," he grunted, simultaneously reaching around to unzip her black hip huggers.

"Fine!" Zoe snapped, no longer responding to him with innuendo lacing her words. "We'll do doggy style, since you're practically humping my leg already."

"Great," Ricky growled. "There's no one more appropriate to do doggy style with than a bitch!"

"You're one sick bastard!" Zoe hissed, clawing the wall with her red lacquered nails.

Ricky shoved his fists into her long, dark hair. "Shut up!" he barked. "Don't say anything and don't turn around!" He closed his eyes as he unlatched her bra. "I don't need a therapist," he spoke under his breath. "And I don't need Adrian!"

"Are you seriously talking about that slut while you're fucking me?" Zoe demanded. She suddenly rammed her elbow into his abs, catching him off guard and knocking him to the wooden floor. She hastened to latch her bra again and then grabbed his belt from under her shirt. Without warning, she slashed it against his face. "You're a piece of shit, Underwood. Get out!"

Ricky clamored to his feet as Zoe grabbed his pants and tossed them and his belt onto her front porch. "Fuck you!"

"Don't worry, I'll find someone who can!"

The door slammed in his face. The scene left him momentarily stunned, then he looked to the left and to the right to make sure nobody was around, and quickly pulled on his jeans and belt. Undiluted rage was maxing through his veins as he punched a hole in the whicker table on Zoe's front porch. His hand was a marred with blood when he pulled it back and he opted to kick one of the beams as he went down the steps.

When he got into his car, he furiously punched the wheel with his fists, splattering more blood about the console. The horn also blared several times before the fight finally left him and he collapsed against the headrest. When he'd finally calmed down somewhat, he grabbed his cell phone and hit his last speed dial. After a few rings, he heard a click and what sounded to be a yawn.

"Ricky?" Dr. Fields's voice questioned.

"Yeah, it's me. I need to talk to you. _Now._"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben held the door to the condo open for Adrian as she walked in carrying Mercy. He, himself, was carrying the Disney luggage. "Your mom home?"

"She's spending the night at a friend's. I guess they went out to do a little post-breakup clubbing."

"So your mom and George are officially over then?"

"That's what I'm told. He's moved most of his stuff out, too. I guess he's staying at his furniture store right now. We told him that he could stay here until he found a place, but he didn't want to impose. Says he's in the process of getting an apartment, though, so he won't be living out of his work for much longer."

"Well, since I probably won't get a chance to see her, let her know that I appreciate her getting discounted tickets for us."

"I'll tell her."

Ben proceeded to open each one of the luggage cases – two in total, plus a diaper bag – and pulled out an itemized typed list for her. "That should be everything, organized by bag. What do you think?"

Adrian inspected the list as she walked down the hall to her bedroom with Ben in tow. She carefully laid Mercy into her bassinet and then sat down on the edge of her bed. After a few minutes, she nodded slowly. "It sounds like you've thought of everything."

"My dad did help," he admitted sheepishly.

Adrian set the list down as she watched Ben move to the bassinet. "So…your favorite girl, huh?"

Ben smiled. "Yep."

"I'm flattered."

"She sure is."

Adrian and Ben looked at each other simultaneously. Adrian felt her cheeks grow hot. "You were talking about Mercy."

Ben rapidly turned the color of a tomato. "Yeah…but – I mean, you're the mother of my favorite girl," he backtracked. "That makes you my, uh, favorite girl over sixteen, right?"

Adrian shook her head. "Over sixteen?" she asked, her mind suddenly filled with Amy's face.

"Sure!" Ben squeaked. "You're the mother of my daughter. I care about you a lot."

Adrian turned her attention to the list he'd printed out. "Did you hear that Grace is going to the Young Healers program?"

"She is?"

"Yeah, she texted me about it just over an hour ago."

"I'm shocked. I didn't think she'd be up for it. But good for her. Getting away will probably do her good."

"I agree." Adrian cleared her throat. "So I was wondering…I know it's last minute, but…do you think there's any way that your dad still might be able to get another ticket?" She closed her eyes. "If there's not, that's okay too!" she added quickly. "I don't want him to have to spend money that he wouldn't have had to spend before-"

"Dad, it's me, Adrian's changed her mind!"

Adrian's eyes shot open as she realized Ben was already on his cell phone. "Ben-"

"She wants to go to Italy with us! Is there any way we can still get her a ticket?" He looked at Adrian with a mischievous grin and turned on the speaker phone.

"I'll call up the airline right now!"

"Mr. Boykewich-" The Latina attempted again, but her voice was met with a click as the line disconnected.

"I can't believe you're saying yes," Ben said. He was all smiles and sunshine. "This is going to be the most amazing summer ever!"

Adrian quirked her eyebrow. "Even more amazing than losing your virginity?"

Ben plopped down beside her, making the bed groan. He looped one finger onto the edge of the bassinet and pulled it in front of them. "I'll be spending it in one of the most beautiful countries in the world, with my two favorite girls." He nodded confidently. "Infinitely more amazing than losing my virginity!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"This is a serious regression."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"Why did you call me after Zoe rejected you?" Dr. Fields asked.

"As opposed to what?"

"Going to another girl for sex."

"I don't know."

"Okay, let me ask you this: why did you go to Zoe in the first place?"

Ricky grabbed a pillow and held it to his chest. "I can be rough with her. _Really_ rough. She likes that."

"Why else?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do."

Ricky closed his eyes. "It's easy."

"What is?"

"To pretend. To pretend she's Adrian, when I'm not looking at her face or listening to her speak. If I close my eyes, I can pretend she's Adrian."

"Have you spoken to Adrian lately? Today, perhaps?"

"How did you know?"

"Educated guess," Dr. Fields responded flatly. "Did she reject you too, Ricky?"

"She didn't reject me."

"What happened?"

Ricky balled his fists against the pillow. "She couldn't – she wouldn't commit to me."

"Wouldn't or couldn't?"

"Does it matter? She won't be with me, despite everything we've been through! After we had goddamn sex and she was going to be with me and then fucking Ben kisses her and it all goes to hell!"

"Have you taken her feelings into account? Look at the position she's in. It's not easy."

He pushed the pillow aside and his chest deflated. "Just come out and say what you're thinking: I'm being selfish. Yeah, I already know. But I can't help it. My life is so fucked up right now. I have all these feelings that I can't even describe and now they're just bursting from every pore like a shaken up soda." Ricky let his head fall onto the back ridge of the couch. "I've been screwed up for so long and I've hated myself so much. But during the pregnancy, I didn't. For the first time in so long, I could see hope. It was something I could practically reach out and touch and taste and smell. I think, because of that, it's even worse now."

"Ricky, I want to help you, but in my professional opinion, you need more help than I can provide. Look at what you did today: you attempted to have violent sex with Zoe to relieve immense emotional turmoil. Think about that for a minute. Sex and rage are things that should never be combined. You know that."

Ricky swallowed uneasily. "I didn't rape her."

"I never suggested that. However, now that you have brought it up: it's not a hard leap to make from one to the other."

"I'm not my father! I'm not Bob!"

Dr. Fields stood up. "You're not your father. But you have been taking a path that is dangerously close to his, Ricky. When he couldn't handle his emotions, he turned to alcohol and drugs and eventually, to you."

"But I don't!" he countered desperately. "I don't use drugs or alcohol and I don't hurt people by force."

"Not physically, but what do you think you're doing when you have sex with naïve young virgins who you never speak to again? Or when you were cheating on Adrian? You were using sex to hurt her emotionally, even if she consented to the physical relationship. You need help."

"What do I do?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The clock on the microwave read 6:53 A.M. Adrian was wrapped in a robe and slippers as she poured a smoldering cup of coffee and stylized it with some half-and-half and several spoonfuls of sugar. She yawned as she pressed the mug to her lips and closed her eyes. She gently blew across the top of the drink when a knock sounded at the door, causing her to accidentally scorch the tip of her tongue. She set the mug down and rubbed her tongue against the inside of her mouth as she answered the door. "Ricky?"

"Adrian, I'm sorry it's so early, but I needed to talk to you."

"I thought I made myself clear yesterday-"

"I just wanted to apologize. There are so many things going on right now and I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you."

"This isn't the time."

"I know. But I just wanted you to know that I'm getting help. More help."

"What do you-"

"Adrian?"

Ricky looked over Adrian's head at the sound of Ben's voice, attempting to see through the crack in the door. Suddenly Ben's face emerged above Adrian's head and the door opened a little more. Ricky swallowed uneasily as he saw Ben standing behind Adrian, feeding Mercy a bottle.

"What're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, but the answer's obvious."

Adrian pressed her hand to Ben's arm. "Take Mercy back to my room. I need to talk to Ricky for a minute."

Ben's grip tightened on the bottle and he seemed ready to protest until Mercy spat the bottle out of her mouth and began to whimper. "Call me if you need me."

Adrian waited until she heard her bedroom door shut and then stepped out into the hallway with Ricky. "I appreciate you coming over here to apologize. It may not seem like it, but it means a lot to me. But you should know it's not enough. I care about you, Ricky. I always have. Maybe I always will. But right now, that's just not enough. I have my daughter to think about and I have to do what's best for her. So you should know: I'm leaving on Tuesday. I'm going to Italy with Ben and our baby. I'm sorry."

Ricky watched her turn swiftly and slip back into the condo, shutting the door before he had a chance to formulate a response. He felt the blood thickening in his veins; the anger boiling up under his skin. He wanted to bang on the door and fight for her; to beat Ben to a little pulp. Instead, he pressed the flat of his fist to the door and then turned around, leaned against it, and slid down to the ground.


	7. Summertime Blues

**A/N: **I really wanted to get in a chapter of what everyone is doing over summer, so this chapter might be a little confusing. There are several time laps between scene changes, so it's not like you're seeing what everyone is doing in different places at the same time, if that makes sense.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Summertime Blues**

A bubblegum colored luggage bag thoroughly speckled with hot pink Susan G. Komen ribbon symbols was lying open atop a twin sized bed, neatly made with a yellow fleece comforter. Grace stood over it dressed in a pair of white pajama pants dotted with little lavender butterflies and a spaghetti strap top approximately the same color as the butterflies. She could hear the sound of the shower in the background as she rifled through her clothes, constantly comparing tops to skirts and jeans, yet unable to settle on anything.

Eventually, half of her bed was smothered in clothing and as she reached to pull out a pink cashmere sweater, it revealed her father's white lab coat tucked neatly away at the bottom of the luggage bag. Grace paused in her search and laid her hand across the stark white fabric. A wistful smile appeared on her face and she briefly cast her eyes towards the ceiling. The serenity of the moment was ruptured, however, when a course knocking came from the other room. Grace quickly pulled the top over her luggage bag and scurried into the next room, making a beeline for the door. When she pulled it back, she discovered Jason on the other side wearing a sunny grin on his mouth and holding two tall foam containers in his hands. "Hey!"

"Good morning!" Jason grinned, offering an outstretched arm. "I was going to bring coffee, but apparently it's illegal here. Also on the outlaw list is ice cream. I don't know how I'm going to survive," he joked.

Grace accepted the drink. "Are you sure? How much did you pay, I'll pay you back-"

"Forget about it," Jason said dismissively. "It's just a fruit smoothie. Kind of like a Jamba Juice thing. I guess they jam pack 'em with all your daily vitamins and everything."

The blonde sealed her lips around the straw and raised her eyebrows delightedly as she drank. "Mmm! Piña colada?"

"I'm glad you approve. They're my favorite. Well, _virgin _piña coladas that is."

Grace nodded vigorously. "Thanks so much! You really didn't have to get up so early to do this."

"You're giving me way too much credit," he laughed. "I couldn't sleep at all last night."

"Bad roommate?"

"Just nerves." He looked Grace up and down. "You, on the other hand…"

Grace felt her cheeks grow warm. "Yeah, sorry!" She looked over her shoulder and then leaned outside. "I haven't even had a chance to shower yet, my roommate's sweet and all, but she's a total hot water hog!" At that moment, the sound of the shower ceased. "Oh," she giggled. "Maybe she heard me?"

Jason nodded. "I'll let you go get ready then. Hopefully you won't be reduced to a cold shower," he said sympathetically. With a scowl he added, "My sister's been subjecting me to them for years, so I understand."

Grace nodded enthusiastically. "Thanks, Jason! And I guess I'll see you in our lecture group this afternoon?" She frowned slightly. "It's too bad we aren't in the same hospital rounds with each other too, it's always so uncomfortable when you don't know anyone in situations like this."

"This, coming from _Grace Bowman_, the resident Social Butterfly of Grant High?" He waved his hand to dismiss the comment. "I think you'll fine!"

There was the sound of a door shutting in the background and Grace smiled. "I guess that means the bathroom's mine now." She held up her drink as though she might toast it. "Thanks again! It was really sweet of you to come all the way over here this morning."

"Not a problem. I'll see you later, Grace!"

"See ya," Grace echoed before shutting the door. She took another suck off the straw and promptly skipped off back to her room where she settled on a knee-length robin's egg blue summer dress, a white sweater, and a pair of matching white kitten heels.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Are you sure you don't want to get into the pool with us?" Ben asked. He was seated on a ledge in the shallow end of the pool, cradling Mercy to his chest, though her tiny feet were still dangling in the water.

For her part, Adrian was reclined in a beach chair, next to a small glass table where she had her laptop sitting. Although she was wearing a dark purple bikini top, from the waist down she was concealed in a flowy cotton beach wrap that had a deep violet and jade colored Hawaiian pattern on it. "Thanks, but I'm fine sunbathing right now," she responded disappointedly.

"It's a heated pool if that's what you're worried about."

Adrian shook her head. "Maybe later," she lied, not wanting to admit to him that she felt self conscious over the fact that her bathing suit didn't fit her the way it had pre-pregnancy. Her laptop suddenly pinged and she sat up, welcoming the distraction. As she clicked onto her e-mail, a wide smile spread across her face. "I just got an e-mail from Grace!"

Ben stood up and waded across the pool so he could stand at the edge closest to Adrian. "I thought she'd forgotten about us. It's been almost two weeks since we last saw her at the airport, right?"

Adrian nodded as she clicked on the e-mail. "I've sent her two e-mails, a couple of texts, and a postcard, which I'm not sure has even gotten to her yet, but I was shocked that she hadn't e-mailed me back yet."

_Dear Adrian:_

_You must think I've fallen off the face of the Earth by now. I haven't called, text, or wrote, but I see that you have e-mailed me twice. I am so sorry I haven't gotten back to you before now! When I got here, I realized I'd packed my charger, but left my cell phone at home. If you've tried to call me and I haven't answered, that's why. And I swear I would have e-mailed sooner, but you have no idea how crazy it's been! The amount of work they have us doing here is absolute insanity. We have a strict schedule from nine in the morning until five at night and that's providing we finish our rounds within that time and don't have to stay over. But I guess that's just a taste of the life of a real doctor, so I should probably learn to get used to it. Speaking of our rounds, you will never guess who I ran into! Do you remember that cute guy I spoke with at Borders when you were thinking about applying there for work? Grant? Well we have the same rounds! How crazy is that? And he asked me if I wanted to have breakfast with him at the cafeteria tomorrow! That's a breakfast date, right? I can't wait! I'll e-mail you again as soon as I have the time. Tell Ben I said hello and make sure to give Mercy lots of kisses for me!_

_Love,_

_Grace_

"Grant?" Ben asked, his brow furrowing. "Maybe I was wrong, but I kind of got the impression she was into Lauren's brother. Or at least _he_ was into _her_."

"There was definite flirting going on at the airport," Adrian agreed. "I have to admit I'm surprised. Grace was going on and on about how they were in the same lecture group when Jason wasn't in earshot, so I got the impression she had a little crush going on." She shrugged.

"Who is this Grant character anyway?"

"I only vaguely remember him, but he struck me as a bit of a creeper." Adrian rotated her laptop around so that it was facing Ben and Mercy. "She attached some pictures. That's him right there." She frowned. "Actually, there are _a lot_ of him."

Ben watched intently as Adrian clicked through the pictures: some were of Grant, some were of Grace, some of Grace and Jason, a couple were of the bedroom Grace was housed in, one was of redhead, and the majority consisted of Grace and Grant. "Who's the redhead?"

Adrian glanced suspiciously at him. "It looks like that's her roommate, Dylan." She laughed. "Let me amend that statement, that's her 'hot water hogging I-don't-know-how-she-ever-got-into-med-camp roommate, Dylan.'"

"She's hot."

Adrian glared. "I'll be sure to let Grace know," she said sarcastically.

Ben switched Mercy to his other arm. "I'm just saying," he shrugged.

Adrian lifted up her cell phone and took a snapshot of Ben and Mercy. "For Grace!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Hey, sorry I'm late, my dentist appointment ran over." Ricky nervously ran his hand through his hair. "Tamara said I needed to help unload some things in the lounge?"

A stubby woman with frizzy white-blonde hair looked up from a stack of papers she had in her hands and gave an exhausted smile. "No problem." She gave a quick nod that. "Yeah, we're taking in a couple of donations today and they were running late too. I guess there was an accident on the way over here, so traffic was pretty slow. Anyway, just head in and help them carry things in; maybe reorder the lounge too, if need be. I'm not sure how Tamara wanted it set up."

"No problem!" Ricky wiped his brow with the back of his hand as he jogged outside to find a large moving van. As began to walk up to it, a familiar figure came around the opposite side of the van.

"Ricky?"

"Mr. Juergens?"

"What are you doing here?" George asked suspiciously.

Ricky motioned to the furniture van. "Volunteering. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that you're the source of the lounge donations?"

George grunted as he pushed up the door on the back of the van and brought down the ramp. "How ever did you guess?" he retorted sarcastically.

"What's the catch?" The teen asked as he strode up the ramp behind George and began to inspect the three pieces of furniture inside.

"What catch?" George asked innocently. "I'm donating to a good cause in the community."

Ricky rolled his eyes. "Divorce fees, a new apartment, child support…So why would you just give away perfectly good furniture?"

George glanced around and noted nobody else was within earshot. "Fine!" he admitted. "These pieces have been in my store for almost a year and nobody's been interested…so I get a tax write off for donating them, okay?"

Ricky shrugged. "Your secret's safe with me." He pointed to a garish blue leather couch. "Why would you even order that anyway?"

"I didn't," he deadpanned. "It was an incorrect shipment, but I wasn't there the day it came in and Donovan didn't know that, so he approved it. Afterwards, they refused to take it back or refund me because Donovan had already accepted the shipment." George secured his hands on the underside of one of the couch arms. "You ready?"

Ricky grabbed the other couch arm. "When you are."

George nodded and together they lifted the couch off the floor of the van and slowly carried it down the ramp, with Ricky walking backwards. "So _why_ are you here?" he asked again.

"I told you, I'm volunteering."

George scoffed. "C'mon, I told you why I was really donating," he pressed.

Ricky groaned and shook his head as they hauled the couch through the propped open double doors leading into the lounge. "It's a long story and I don't really feel like sharing."

"That bad, huh?" George made a guttural noise as they came to a stop and dropped the couch down. He rubbed his back. "Man, I'm getting old and fat. What I wouldn't give to be your age again."

Ricky rolled his eyes. "What I wouldn't give to be done with this age."

George studied him for a moment, then smiled sadly. "Have you talked to Adrian lately?"

"Why would I have talked to Adrian?"

"Because she's been gone a month and you two were pretty close at one time."

"So were you and Adrian's mom, but have you talked to her lately?"

"_Touché."_ They began to walk back to the van together. "So what have you been up to over the summer? Besides your 'volunteer' work."

Ricky shrugged. "Same old, same old. I tried to find a summer job, but nobody was hiring."

"Everybody's hard up lately."

"Almost everybody."

"What does that mean?"

Ricky shook his head as they positioned themselves on opposite sides of a burnt orange colored recliner. "Nothing. How about you?"

"It's been a pretty dull summer to be honest," George responded. "Amy and Ashley are with Anne up in Palm Springs all summer. I guess I could've fought to have them for half the summer if I'd wanted, but I think it's best this way. I've caused enough problems in their lives this past year, it's better to just let the dust settle, y'know? Besides, their grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's a while back, so it'll be good for them to spend as much time with her as possible before…you know."

Ricky nodded somberly. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry about you and Adrian," George added, as they set the recliner down in the corner of the lounge.

"What's there to be sorry about?"

George rubbed his lower back. "It's just unfortunate how things worked out with the baby."

"Who wants to be a father at sixteen anyway?"

"True, but…you just seemed good together, that's all."

"Are you sure you're not just saying that because now your daughter has no chance with Ben?"

"I'm just saying it's too bad when another guy comes in between you and the person you love."

"Says the guy who let another woman come in between him and his wife?"

George helped to pick up the last piece of furniture, a loveseat, began to carry it towards the ramp. "It's funny how we can turn into the very things we hate, isn't it?"

"I'm not sure 'funny' is the right word for it."

As George moved to set off the bottom of the ramp, the edge of his shoe caught the edge of the ramp. His leg wobbled and as he realized what was going on, he lost his grip on the edge of the loveseat and it went crashing down on his right foot. "Ahhhh!"

"Shit!" Ricky bellowed. He hesitated, having no idea where to drop his end of the loveseat or to try and call for help. Finally, he bellowed, "Help! Somebody, help!" At the same time, he set his end of the loveseat down and ran to George's end and lifted it off his foot as a few Big Brother Big Sister coordinators came running over to find out what was going on.

"Oh God!" George groaned, his eyes literally tearing up as he withered on the ramp. "I think my foot's broken!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I got another postcard from Adrian today!" Grace said in a singsong voice as she skipped up behind Jason in the cafeteria line.

Jason chuckled. "We're in the e-mail age and yet you still get a thrill out of a postcard."

"E-mail is quick and all, but you still can't get the satisfaction of physically holding something in your hand that someone took the time to pick out, write on, and second thousands of miles to you."

Jason shook his head. "That's what I like about you, Grace." He set an apple on his tray beside his pint of milk. "I feel like I'm back in elementary school."

"Grace!"

Grace's arm froze halfway in the process of reaching for a premade side salad. She looked over her shoulder to see Grant coming her way and she smiled thoughtfully. "Hey, you!"

Grant glanced warily at Jason. "I've been waiting for you. I thought we were going to eat together today? You said you'd already finished your study chapter for this week, didn't you?"

"Yeah, Jason and I got done with it yesterday." She snatched up the side salad and then skirted around the brunette to grab a bottle of orange juice. "And don't worry I'm still planning on eating with you, silly. I just got a little delayed on my way to the cafeteria."

"Why?"

Grace shrugged. "I've told you about my roommate," she groaned. "Well apparently she got caught smoking marijuana last night and so I was detained while the program directors and the police did an inspection of our apartment. They found more marijuana smuggled into her shampoo bottles, so she's getting kicked out of the program."

"I guess that means you'll be getting an apartment all to yourself then, huh?" Jason joked. "Lucky you!"

Grace shrugged. "Maybe, but they could just move me to a cramped studio too."

"But at least no more hot water thievery, right?"

Grace chuckled. "True!"

Grant wrapped his arm around Grace's shoulders, turning her ever so slightly away from Jason. "Did I mention you look amazing today?"

Grace blushed. "No, but thank you."

"C'mon," he urged, pushing her away from the counter and away from Jason. "We only have so long, we need to eat up before rounds!"

Grace glanced back over her shoulder. "Bye, Jason!"

Jason waved awkwardly to her. "See you!"

Grant dropped his hand further down Grace's back and eventually wrapped it around her waist, pulling her close to him. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek as they walked.

"Grant!" Grace squealed, lightly pushing his face away. "What are you doing?"

"Just kissing you. What did you think I was doing?"

Grace shook her head, hiding her face with her blonde locks. "I know what you were _doing_," she amended. "But you know the rules! No kissing or – or _anything_. They're strict about the rules, you know. They don't even allow ice cream for Pete's sake!"

Grant shrugged. "I couldn't help myself, you're just so beautiful, Grace."

The blonde pursed her lips. "Complimented accepted," she whispered. "Just…no more kissing, okay? Dylan already got my stuff searched, so I don't need anymore scrutiny!"

"No more kissing," he agreed as they sat down at the table where Grant's cafeteria tray was already stationed. "But how can I not scrutinize you, Grace? Look at you!" He sat down across from her and laid his hand on hers. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

"Grant, stop. You're making me go beat red!"

"I don't care. Beat red or not, I've still got the best girlfriend a guy could ever ask for."

"Girlfriend," Grace echoed giddily. "I like the sound of that!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Mercy was lying on her back on a pink blanket, beneath a Baby Einstein Water Play Gym, which had various toys dangling down over her head within her tiny arm's length. She would reach out to grab the toys, most of them shaped like different types of fish, and swat them with the tips of her fingers. Then she'd make a delighted noise, produce a spit bubble, and then attempt to suck on her toes.

All the while, Ben was lying on the bed, aiming his camcorder at Mercy. Then he'd get up and circle around the blanket like a shark, trying to capture her on film from different angles. "Smile for Daddy! Blow spit bubbles for Daddy!"

Adrian rolled her eyes. "You're wasting your tapes," she laughed. "All she does is lay there and try to devour herself. Your efforts are better off somewhere else."

"Like on you?" Ben asked, suddenly turning the camcorder on the Latina.

Adrian held up her arm, shielding her face. "Get that no good thing away from me!" she scolded, half seriously. Her laptop made a noise and she quickly whirled around to find that a message box on center of the screen. "My mom's requesting a video chat."

"Well go on and accept it," Ben sighed. "Otherwise she'll be calling us all night."

"_Again."_

Adrian sighed and swiveled back to the screen, accepting the invitation. Instantly, a box with Cindy's face in it appeared in the corner of the monitor. _"Hola,"_ Adrian greeted in annoyance.

"_Hola, Chica._ Where's my _nieta_?"

"Just a few moments ago she was blowing bubbles for the camera," Adrian said as she walked over to the blanket and scooped up the baby. "Say hi to _Abuelita_!" she said, setting the little girl on her lap and engineering her hand to wave for the camera.

"I know the camera adds ten pounds, but my goodness, is she really that big already?" Cindy gasped.

"You say that every time," Adrian said, rolling her eyes.

"Because it's the truth! What are you feeding her over there?"

"Milk, just like the pediatrician told us." Adrian squinted her eyes at the screen and then clicked it to bring the box to a full screen. "Where are you, anyway? That doesn't look like the condo."

"I'm in a hotel room in New York right now. I'll be flying to Vegas tomorrow. In fact," Cindy angled her head, presumably looking at the time on the corner of her laptop screen. "I should really get to bed, I just checked in a couple of hours ago and I'm exhausted."

"You should've went to bed first."

"And miss my favorite granddaughter for even a second? Nonsense!" She waved at Mercy and blew her a kiss. "I'll see you later, honey."

"Bye, Mom."

"You too, Adrian."

Ben snickered as the chat window disconnected, only to be kicked in the foot by the Latina. "I like your mom."

"You just like her because she's an older version of me."

Ben shrugged. "Maybe there is something vaguely to that," he agreed as he snatched Mercy up from Adrian's lap. "But I still think Adrian Lee is an original."

Adrian followed him over to the playpen as Ben set Mercy into it. "I think she's ready to crash."

Ben nodded. "I bet I could get my dad to watch her for a few hours. Or my uncle. Or, well, _any_ of my family. I swear they're beating over each other around here to spend time with her. It must be those Lee genes."

"I can't blame them," Adrian said, flipping her hair sexily. "And if you did get someone to babysit, then what?"

Ben shrugged. "We do a little sightseeing?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ricky thudded his fist against an old door with a chipping brown paint.

"Come in!"

Ricky wrapped his hand around the door handle and cautiously turned it before walking inside. Immediately pressed his hand beneath his nose and turned away. "Mr. Juergens?"

"In here!"

Ricky shoved the door closed, and the entire apartment seemed to rattle. He held his breath as he moved through the apartment and finally discovered George in his bedroom with his foot resting on a pillow, surrounded by ice packs. It was three times the size it was supposed to be and shaded with browns and purples. "How's your foot?" he asked tentatively.

"Still fractured," George sighed. "The doctors said it'll take six weeks to heal, give or take, so I still got about a month left to go."

Ricky nodded. "And so you just…"

"Lay in bed all day watching cartoons and eating myself into a coma? Pretty much."

"I was going to say leave the door unlocked and then teenagers to come over to your apartment for amusement."

George chuckled. "I like you, Underwood. I do. That's why I have a proposition for you."

"If it's cleaning up this dump – and by the way, if you can't smell the rotten eggs permeating from your kitchen, you should really get that checked out too – there's no way. You can offer me as much money as you want-"

"I was going to offer you some cash, but now I'm beginning to rethink it."

Ricky folded his arms. "For what?"

"We got a new shipment in yesterday," George explained over the sound of an episode of _Sponge Bob_. "Problem is, the delivery only drops things off, they can't help him organize the display. His husband would help him, but he's up in San Francisco right now marketing some new designs for his organic baby clothes line…_whatever that is_. Anyway, I thought maybe you could help him – us – out. I remember you said you were sniffin' around for a summer job."

"And how long would this last?"

"Just until I'm back on my feet. Literally. It wouldn't be any full time or permanent position or anything like that, but I thought we might be able to work out a price for your help once in a while. What d'ya say?"

"You said for the next month?"

"Is that a problem?"

"It'll cut into the first couple weeks of school," Ricky said slowly.

"Well, if you can't do it-"

"I'll do it." Ricky shrugged. "I need something to distract me after school starts, it might as well be this."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Are you _smelling_ me?" Grace asked in a hush. She was standing beside Grant at the outset of a group of other students from the Young Healers program while the doctor who was performing their rounds with them was at the foot of an elderly patient's bed, speaking with her.

"I can't help myself," Grant whispered back. "You smell so good! Are you wearing perfume?"

"It's probably just my conditioner," Grace replied. "It's a leave in, it's supposed to be coconut scented."

Grant discreetly ran his fingers through Grace's hair. "You wouldn't want to catch a movie tonight, would you?"

"You know we can't leave the camp grounds."

"I mean on DVD. I have a portable DVD player. We could hang out in your room and-"

"Grant, you know that's not allowed. Plus, rounds end fifteen minutes before curfew."

"I don't mind sneaking back to my room under cover of darkness if you don't."

"Bowman, Volberg, are you two busy back there?"

Grace pushed Grant's hand away and stiffened her posture. "No, Dr. Yang. I mean – Grant just didn't catch the last thing you said, so he was asking me about it. We're sorry."

Dr. Yang shook his head disapprovingly. "You know you're always welcome to raise your hands to ask questions or you can speak with me after rounds, but during rounds, you need to be paying attention, not stopping to whisper to each other when you miss something, otherwise you're liable to miss something else. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Grant nodded.

"Of course, it won't happen again, Dr. Yang!"

"I should hope not. Otherwise there _will_ be repercussions."

Grace briefly cast her eyes upon her boyfriend and took in his sheepish smile with a disapproving glare when Dr. Yang wasn't looking. Finally she looked down at the clipboard in her hand and resumed the notes she'd been studiously taking before Grant had interrupted her.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Oh my god!" Adrian gasped. "I've seen pictures of this, but I never thought I'd get to see it in person!"

"_Fontana de Nettuno,"_ Ben grinned. "The Fountain of Neptune. I saved the best for last."

From afar, the glow of the city lights gave the illusion of liquid gold pumping through the fountain. Adrian dashed up to the carefully crafted stone structure in awe, still not quite believing what she was witnessing. "This is breathtaking."

Ben moved up behind her and reached into his pocket, retrieving a single shiny euro. "Wanna make a wish?"

Adrian shook her head. "Oh, Ben, you and your father have spent enough on me already. But thank you. Being here is enough."

Ben sat down on the edge of the fountain. "You sure?"

"I'm sure, but thank you." Adrian sat down beside him and touched the surface of the water with her finger, creating a ripple effect. "This entire summer has felt so surreal. It's amazing how one choice can change so much."

Ben stared at the euro between his thumb and index finger, then closed his eyes, kissed the edge of the coin, and tossed it over his shoulder.

Adrian watched at the euro hit the water, creating a tiny splash, and glimmered as it sunk to the bottom. She gazed at the resulting ripples until they dissipated and, without looking at Ben, absently asked, "What did you wish for?"

Ben brushed his hand through the water. "Can't tell you," he said slyly. Then out of the blue he splashed her with the water.

"Hey!" she shrieked, turning to the side as the water soaked into her shirt. "This water must be filthy!"

"You stuck your hand in it first!"

Adrian scowled and suddenly splashed him back, spattering him in the face.

"Hey, I didn't get you that hard!"

"Well I don't play fair!"

"Oh, is that how it is then?" Ben challenged. He suddenly gave her a shove, knocking her off balance and backwards into the fountain.

"Oh!" Adrian screamed. Then she lunged for Ben and pulled him backwards into the fountain with her. "I cannot believe you just did that!" She splashed him again.

Ben returned fire until he noticed people staring at them and then gasped. _"Uh oh."_

"What?"

"I think we're about to get in trouble." He suddenly pulled himself out of the fountain and offered his hand to help Adrian out as well.

"What are you talking about?" Adrian demanded, attempting to ring out her hair and clothes.

"I'm talking about those guys coming towards us who look kind of like American police, but they're yelling in Italian and they don't look friendly!"

"Shit! Ben, I'm gonna kill you!"

"C'mon!" Ben laughed, grabbing Adrian's hand and yanking her around the fountain and into the tuna packed crowd.

"Ben!"

"We can lose them!" he yelled.

"I cannot believe we're doing this!" Adrian felt her heart clubbing against her ribcage as they picked up speed and began to dart in and out of passageways in the _Piazza Maggiore_. After a few minutes she could hear Ben's labored breaths. "You're gonna kill yourself," she said, pulling him behind and up against a wall.

Ben wrapped his arms around his stomach and doubled over coughing. His face had turned the color of spaghetti sauce and Adrian began to rub his back as he fought through the coughing fit. "My throat – feels like it's on – on fire!" he coughed.

"You're insane, Boykewich."

Ben slid down the wall until he reached the ground and sat down, resting himself against the wall. He stared up at Adrian with shiny eyes and a mix of water and sweat dripping down his face. "That was the most exciting thing I've ever done!"

Adrian placed her hands on her hips. _"Really?"_

"Well…besides you."

"Mhm." She dropped down to sit beside him and resumed squeezing handfuls of her hair and watching the water drain onto the ground. "I don't even know where we are now."

"I've got GPS!" Ben pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and attempted to activate the GPS system, only for the automated voice to stutter and die out.

"And that's why you don't push people into historic fountains. Now we're lost in the middle of Bologna and it's all your fault! If I don't make it home to my daughter tonight, I really will kill you!"

"Home?" Ben responded, raising his eyebrows.

Adrian opened her mouth and shut it again. "You know what I mean," she said eventually. "Home…where ever Mercy is, that's what I meant."

Ben nodded. "Of course." He pulled himself up and coughed a few more times. "Well, we'd better start trying to find our way back, we're supposed to meet up with my dad in…" He glanced at his watch. "Twenty-nine minutes."

"You sure that didn't get damaged too?"

Ben shook his head. "Waterproof! Remind me to make sure my next cell phone is too."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

An hour later, Adrian found herself in Ben's suite, running a hairbrush through her tangled black tresses as Ben spoke on the phone.

"Are you sure, Dad? Because we're willing to come get her. She's not your responsibility you know."

Adrian stepped into the bathroom and took a seat on the toilet seat. She kicked off her heels and wiggled her ruby painted toenails. Her shoes were still wet inside and her clothes were still damp as well, though they weren't clinging to her like a second skin anymore. She swept her hair from one shoulder to the other and resumed brushing the tangles out of the right side.

Ben peeked inside. "My dad said Mercy was already asleep when he went to get her from my uncle, so he says he's going to stay the night in his room tonight so nobody has to wake her up."

Adrian frowned. "He's going through an awful lot of trouble to do that."

"He says it's our last night in Bologna and she has a big plane ride tomorrow, so he thinks it's best if she's well rested."

The Latina shrugged. "I guess if he's sure."

Ben nodded. "He wouldn't take no for an answer and believe you me, he's a _very_ stubborn man."

"I know," she laughed. "I've gotten to know him quite well over the last two months."

Ben nodded. "I'm gonna go get changed then. Feel free to…whatever."

Adrian nodded. "Thanks." She waited until he'd left the bathroom and then she stood up and moved to the mirror. She ran the brush through her hair a few more times and then tossed the resulting hairball into the waste basket before rinsing out Ben's brush with some steamy water. Finally, she scooped up her shoes and stepped out in the bedroom just in time to see Ben unbuttoning his jeans.

Ben stopped as he saw her. He had already stripped off his shirt, shoes, and socks. "Uh…maybe I didn't think this through."

"Probably not," Adrian laughed. "I should go." However, she continued to linger. "You're such a string bean."

Ben looked down at the damp pile of clothes he'd discarded. "You could stay a while if you wanted," he offered nervously. "You know…dry off. We could watch some TV or order in some room service."

Adrian shook her head. "I'm – I'm fine, thanks, but I'm exhausted. Big day tomorrow, remember?" She looked him up and down. "You should probably get some clothes on, Ben. You have goose bumps." She made a beeline for the door and as she started to twist the knob she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Wha-" she began, only to find the word stifled by Ben's mouth. The shoes dropped from her hand and landed with a clatter on the floor.

"Now who has the goose bumps?" Ben asked, noting the pimpled flesh growing along her arms.

Breathing felt heavy and labored in her chest as Ben brushed her hand off the doorknob. "Ben-"

"Don't tell me you're not thinking it too," he whispered. "We've been in Bologna all this time and_ nothing_. It's our last night, Adrian."

Impulsively, Adrian wrapped her hands around his head and kissed him again. She felt his hands moving beneath her cold shirt and she instinctively lifted her arms so he could pull it over her head. "This doesn't mean anything," she whispered.

Ben led her over to the bed, all the while kissing the goose bumps growing along her skin. "It means whatever we want it to mean."

Adrian pressed her hands to his bare chest and pushed him backwards onto the bed. She pulled the zipper down on his jeans and began to tug them down his hips. "I'm not having another baby with you," she warned.

Ben kicked off his pants and sat up, pulling Adrian into his lap. He made a trail of kisses between her breasts and up until his mouth was beside her ear. "Are you on the pill?"

"Yes." Adrian struggled out of her hip huggers. "Do you have a condom?"

Ben grinned and scooted back across the bed to get to the dresser. He opened it up and pulled out a small box that had Italian writing on it. He rotated it around to show her that it was sealed and then he quickly tore it open and pulled out a familiar square plastic package. "Brand new."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Donovan asked me to drop this off with you on my way home," Ricky said as he placed a stapled form on George's bedside table. "It just needs your signature."

"What's it for?"

Ricky shrugged. "I didn't read it."

George glanced at the form and groaned. "I'll read it tomorrow. Thanks, Ricky." He grabbed his checkbook from the dresser and quickly wrote out and tore a check which he handed to the seventeen-year-old. "I appreciate you helping me out, kid."

"Thanks," Ricky nodded. "I'll see you…when I see you."

"Dad?"

George looked quizzically at Ricky. "Did you leave the door unlocked?"

"_You_ opened the door, not me."

"Dad?"

"In here!"

Ricky shrugged. "I gotta go." He quickly darted out the bedroom and into the hallway and nearly collided with Amy.

Amy's face soured as soon as she saw him. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I've been doing some odd jobs for your dad, I was just leaving."

Amy folded her arms over her chest. "Why would he hire you?"

"You'd have to ask him. Now if you'll excuse me..." He skirted past her and into the living room. After a beat, he heard Amy's footsteps go into George's bedroom.

"Amy!"

"Ricky Underwood says you _hired_ him?"

Ricky shook his head as he opened the front door, grateful to escape, only to find Ashley blocking his path. He studied the young girl: long, dark brown hair, curvaceous, and scowling. She reminded him a little of Zoe and, by default, Adrian. "Hi," he spoke uncertainly.

"Well this explains the foul odor coming from my dad's apartment." Ashley pushed by. "I trust you weren't waiting around for Amy," she spoke, all in the same monotonous tone.

"No," Ricky snarled. "I wasn't waiting around for Amy, I was helping out your dad, though it's really none of your business anyway."

Ashley crossed her arms, mimicking her sister's posture just minutes earlier. "Good, because Amy already told you she wasn't going to sleep with you, so you can forget it. Besides, she's got a new boyfriend now anyway."

"Well good for her," Ricky spat back sarcastically.

Ashley looked at the door and then looked at Ricky. "Well, are you going to leave or what?"

"Have a nice day."

Ashley followed him as he stepped outside and wedged herself into the doorframe. "By the way, tell Adrian I said hi."

Ricky felt a pang in his gut. "Tell her yourself." As he began to stomp down the stairs he heard George's door slam behind it. "Good riddance!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben snuggled up behind Adrian, conforming his body to hers beneath the covers. "That was amazing."

"I forgot how much fun sex can be."

"I found it more sensual." Ben buried his face into her hair. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Okay."

"How was I? I mean – compared to the last time. The first time. Whatever. It's – it's not like I've had practice in between."

Adrian closed her eyes. "You were great, Ben."

"Um…what about compared to anyone else?"

Adrian rolled over and smiled at him. "You were great."

Ben nodded and closed his eyes. "You remember when you asked me what wish I made at the fountain?"

"Mhmm."

Ben scooted in closer and kissed Adrian's lips. "It was this."

Adrian rolled onto her back and let her head sink into the pillow. She felt Ben scoot in as close as he could and rested his head in the crook between her face and her shoulder and drape his arm across her bare stomach. She sighed, closed her eyes, and wrapped her arm around him in return.


	8. A New Kind Of Teen

**A/N: **I've gotten a couple questions about the Jason/Grace/Grant storyline and there seems to be confusion. Grace is listed as the secondary character on this story, so rest assured that we _will_ be getting more into this storyline, but in case it's unclear, Grace is _not _cheating on anyone. As she said last chapter, she and Grant are dating. But I'm not going to say anymore than that right now. ;)

_**Turning Tables**_

**A New Kind Of Teen**

"I can't believe you're dating some guy you met at summer camp."

"Hey, you had a baby with some guy you met at summer camp!" Grace shot back playfully. "Besides, I didn't _meet_ him at camp, I just _re_-met him…and got to know him." She shrugged her shoulders. "He's really sweet, Adrian. He likes to shower me with attention."

"So in layman's terms: he's clingy."

"He is not!"

"He's texted you three times since you got to school."

"It's the first day we haven't seen each other in two months! We got really close, okay?" Grace's text message alert began to go off again and she sighed. "Okay, maybe he is a _little_ overzealous, but that's not necessarily a bad thing."

"I'm just glad he doesn't go to our school, otherwise I'd probably never see you again."

"Don't be so melodramatic." Grace suddenly chuckled. "You know, though, he did say that his cousin goes here. I guess they're about a year apart or so. So, I guess that means this will be Griffin's first year here then."

"Oh, _great_." Adrian rolled her eyes. "That way his cousin can keep tabs on you; make sure you're not sneaking around with any other guys…like the football players."

Grace swatted the Latina on the arm playfully. "Jack and I have been over for a long time."

"I'm not talking about Jack," Adrian smirked. "I'm talking about that hunk of dark chocolate you went to med camp with and were all googly eyes at until what's-his-face showed up again."

"I was not all googly eyes at Jason! We're friends."

"Does he know that?"

"Of course he knows that. He saw that Grant and I became an item during the summer."

"An item," Adrian scoffed. "Sometimes I wonder how you get along in the world, Grace."

Grace closed her locker and began to walk with Adrian down the hallway. "So, tell me…what was that cryptic text all about that I saw on my phone this morning, pray tell?"

Adrian grabbed Grace by the arm and pulled her into the girls' bathroom. Once she'd checked the stalls to make nobody was around, she heaved a sigh of relief. "I slept with Ben."

"Again?"

Adrian nodded. "Our last night in Bologna."

Grace smashed her palm into her face. "Isn't that what got you into trouble last time? You – you aren't pregnant again are you? You didn't miss your period, right?"

"No! No, nothing like that! We were careful this time, _extremely_ careful. I'd been on the pill all summer and Ben brought a brand new box of condoms and there were no breaks or leakages…as far as I know."

"So – does that mean you're a couple now? Like, officially?"

Adrian shrugged. "No. I don't know." She moved to the sink and splashed her face and neck with cold water. "I care for Ben a lot. And I even wanted to try with him again, just to see what it would be like."

"And it was bad?"

"No, it was great!"

"But?"

"But – it wasn't _amazing_. It wasn't the best I've ever had."

"Yeah, well, it was only his second time, right?" Her face grew red. "Never mind, forget that, I don't want to know-"

"It was."

"_Thanks."_

"He could improve though."

"I don't want to hear this," Grace groaned.

"What do you think?" Adrian asked suddenly. "Do you think I should give it a shot with him? A real shot?"

"I can't speak for you, Adrian. If you love him, I think you should-"

"Whoa! Who said anything about love? You can't just toss that word around, Grace."

"I know, I just meant that – maybe you should? He is the father of your baby and he obviously adores you, so why not? And you like him enough. It's not like it could hurt." The bell echoed through the bathroom. Grace looked at the door. "We can talk more about this at lunch, okay?"

"What about after school? I'm supposed to meet with Mr. Molina at lunch."

Grace smiled sheepishly. "I promised Grant we'd meet at the Diary Shack after school."

"Of course you did."

"Sorry!" The blonde squeaked. "I'll see you later!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben craned his neck to look at the clock. The class was nearly over, with only fifteen minutes remaining, and he couldn't wait to get out. As soon as lunchtime hit, he was supposed to be on his way to the counselor's office to have a meeting with Mr. Molina and Adrian to check up on how they were coming along with their parenting, how things had gone while in Italy, and what their plans were as they adjusted to their new routine for the coming school year.

"…and don't think for a moment that I'm unaware of the stigma associated with sophomore Biology," Mrs. Doonan warned, raising her index finger for extra emphasis. "I know perfectly well that many of you sign up for this class over Physics and Chemistry because you'll think it'll be easier. Well, I have news for you: this class is not a joyride and you _will_ be working your fingers to the marrow to earn your grades."

Henry Miller leaned in close to Ben with a horrified look on his face. He pinched his lips together and tried to talk in a whisper out of the side of his mouth to avoid being noticed, but only really succeeded in sounding like he had a wad of cotton balls in his mouth: "I can't believe this! Can you believe this? I got duped! I should've just taken Physics with Alice. I didn't know Mr. Fry wasn't going to be teaching Biology this year."

Ben forced a smile as Mrs. Doonan paced back and forth in front of the white board, still continuing with her rant. "Shut up, Henry, you're gonna draw attention over here!" he replied tightly. He could feel his teeth grinding together and made a conscious effort to unhinge his jaws. The woman was condescending and had a voice that sounded like someone hitting the side of an empty cardboard box.

Mrs. Doonan glimpsed the clock above the door. "Now, before I let you go, I will be assigning lab partners. These are non-negotiable and you will have them all year long, so after I've assigned everyone, you'll take the last ten minutes of class to get acquainted with your new partner. You will also both need to read the sheets I will be passing out and decide between the two of you who will be doing what lab tasks ahead of time."

"I hope she's doing it by table," Henry whispered.

Mrs. Doonan scooped up the roll sheet. "I'll be assigning partners alphabetically by last name, excluding anyone who is absent. If there is an odd man out, I will speak with you personally after everyone has regrouped."

Henry puckered his face. "I hope I don't get stuck with Manly," he whined, glancing across the room at a boy wearing a bright yellow Lakers jersey. "He smells like the inside of a gym locker!"

"Nancy Adair and Alonso Addams."

"Hey, do you think that counselor of yours would let me switch classes?"

"John Blodget and Nellie Burns."

"Ben?"

"Shh!"

"Benjamin Boykewich and Madison Cooperstein."

Henry covered his mouth, stifling a laugh. Once Ben shot him a foul look, he immediately rubbed his lips with his hand in an attempt to wipe away the amusement on his face. "Sorry, man."

"Uh, Mrs. Doonan?" Amy spoke up quietly.

Mrs. Doonan set her eyes on the brunette, staring down the curve of her nose. "Name?"

"Amy. Uh, Juergens. Amy Juergens."

Mrs. Doonan shifted her eyes to her roll sheet and made a small notation. "Yes?"

"Madison isn't here today, she's out sick. She caught the flu the last week of break."

Mrs. Doonan frowned and returned her eyes to her roll sheet. "Fine," she said flippantly, "you'll partner with Boykewich then."

Amy blinked. "But I thought you said-" She stopped abruptly when the elder woman cast her eyes upon her disapprovingly. Amy nodded looked over her shoulder at Ben and then uncomfortably rotated her gaze back to the front of the room.

Ben watched as Lauren leaned in to whisper something to Amy when Mrs. Doonan wasn't paying attention, then he leaned back into his seat and shot a halfhearted look at Henry. "Well isn't that coincidental."

"Brayden Konheim and Tina Laurence; Jaleel Manly and Henry Miller…"

"Oh man!"

This time Ben stifled the laughter. "Sorry man," he chuckled, slapping Henry's thick shoulder. "I feel for ya."

"Whatever," Henry grumbled indignantly, as the teacher continued to call out pairings.

"I'll ask Mr. Molina about switching when I see him at lunch," Ben promised. "But you don't really want to leave me in this class alone, do you?"

"You've got Amy all year, don't you?"

Ben glared. "You know how awkward that's going to be!"

"No talking!" Mrs. Doonan snarled. She tapped the tip of her pencil against her roll sheet. "Megan Reese and Lauren Treacy! And finally, Lorna Uhl and Richard Zaltman. Is there anyone I didn't call?"

A boy with Harry Potter-like glasses who sat at the back of the room raised his hand halfway into the air.

Mrs. Doonan looked down her nose at him the way she had at Amy. "And you are?"

"T-Terrance Hennig," he sputtered.

"You're not on my roll sheet," Mrs. Doonan replied. "When did you sign up for this class?"

"Yesterday. It's right here on my schedule," he said, hurrying to provide the proof on a rolled up piece of paper that he took to the front of the room.

Mrs. Doonan surveyed it skeptically. "You must not be on the roll yet." She eyed her sheet. "Normally I'd have you with Juergens," she said slowly, "but since you're not listed, I'll put you with Cooperstein."

Terrance nodded uncertainly. "Thank you," he muttered before returning to his seat.

Mrs. Doonan waved her arm. "Spit spot! I want you moving seats to find your partners, we've only got five minutes left!"

Ben wormed out of his seat, shoved his books into his backpack, and wandered over to Lauren's vacated chair to sit down next to Amy. The chair was still warm when he sat down. "Hey. Long time no see."

"Ben, hi," Amy spoke tentatively. She purposely looked down as she shoved her science book into her backpack.

"How was your summer?"

Amy lifted stood up and tossed her backpack over one shoulder. "It was great," she said unconvincingly. "Ashley and I had a lot of time to bond with our mom."

"And how's Mimsy?"

"Not so great. But at least we had the summer with her. It was hard watching her decline the whole time."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Amy leaned away from him to accept the stack of papers that were being passed around. She took two off the stack, laid them on the table between them, and passed the stack to Ben. "How was your summer?"

Ben smiled as he leaned away to pass the stack on. "Amazing!" he blurted out without hesitation. "I'd show you a picture of how big Mercy is now, but I had a little mishap with my phone recently and I haven't gotten a replacement yet."

Amy nodded. "It sounds like you and Adrian really had a good time then?"

"The best!"

Amy shrugged. "I met someone over the summer."

Ben stopped. "Really?"

"Yeah. He's really sweet, his name's Jimmy."

"And you met him up in Palm Springs?"

"Yeah, but we've been talking and texting since I came back. He might even take a trip down here to visit."

"That's great! I'm – I'm happy for you, Amy. You deserve it. You deserve someone who's drama-free and can focus all their attention on you."

"Someone without responsibilities," Amy reluctantly agreed.

Ben looked down at the smooth black tabletop. "Yeah." He shrugged. "I'd like to see him sometime. Maybe. I bet he's a great guy, Amy."

"He is."

Mrs. Doonan trotted by and pointed an orange painted fingernail at the handout sheets. "No talking unless it's about this class," she scolded. "I don't want to tell you again."

"Sorry, Mrs. Doonan," Ben quickly apologized. "Won't happen again."

The teacher scowled. "It had better not."

Ben and Amy shared a brief look. Amy smiled halfheartedly and turned her attention to the handout. A beat later, Ben did the same.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Grace, hey."

Grace shaded her eyes from the sunbeams as she tilted her head up at the sound of Jack Pappas's voice. "Jack!" she said brightly. "How are you?"

Jack nodded towards the empty bench next to her. "Can I have a seat?"

"Of course." Grace pulled her lunchbox in closer to herself to make room for Jack. "How have you been?"

Jack stared at his ex as though she were a poker player and he was trying to spot her tell. "I'm good," he nodded. "Football camp was incredible." He ran his fingers through the thick of his hair. "I'd heard you went to med camp over the summer after all. How was that?"

Grace grabbed an orange from her lunchbox and began to peel it by digging her fingernails deep into the thick rind and tearing strips off. "It was like a dream come true," she said wistfully, her eyes staring upwards almost in a daze as she spoke. "I'm so grateful I was given the opportunity."

"It must have been hard…you know, going after everything with your dad."

Grace stopped peeling her orange and stared at Jack momentarily. Finally she allowed the corners of her mouth to curl upwards, not necessarily in a genuinely happy way, but in a way that conveyed a sense of understanding. "Is that why you came over to talk to me?" she asked quietly. "Because you wanted to know how I was able to cope?"

"My dad and I have just been worried about you. Tom and your mom came to see my dad at grief counseling over the summer and I know you were so upset after your father's – uh, passing – that you refused to even see me when I tried to come over-"

Grace suddenly laid her hand on Jack's shoulder. "I'm sorry about that," she said sincerely. "I was hurting at the time, but I appreciate that you cared."

Jack looked at her hand uncomfortably. "Thanks, but…what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've changed," Jack tried again. "Your whole demeanor –"

"Isn't it wonderful? I feel like a whole new person! I can't really describe it. At first I went to camp become I had this epiphany: I realized I could carry on my dad's legacy and keep his memory alive by going to the program we worked so hard to apply me for. Then while I was there, things just changed…Jason and – and _Grant_-"

"Grant?"

Grace beamed. "My boyfriend! I have a boyfriend now."

"I'd heard," Jack said sourly.

"Oh?" Grace cocked her head. "From who?"

"Jason, during football practice."

Grace nodded good naturedly. "Yeah, well, there's something about Grant that just makes everything a little better somehow. I just feel like a brand new me! I can't really explain it. Grant and I were in the same rounds together and so we ended up spending a lot of time with each other. The first day we met he just walked right up to me and told me how beautiful he thought I was; that I looked like an angel." She laughed. "A little cheesy, I know, but still…something about him was so – so _charming_. He just makes me feel good; _really_ good!"

"Like a drug."

"Excuse me?"

Jack shook his head. "Nothing," he said quickly, waving his hand. "Bad analogy…I'm – I'm happy for you, Grace." He touched her arm lightly.

"Thank you." She studied him briefly, then went back to peeling her orange. "How's your girlfriend, by the way?"

"My girlfriend?"

"Yeah, I'd heard you were dating someone you'd met through the Big Brother program?"

"Oh!" Jack looked down at his hot lunch tray and pushed around the corner with his plastic spork. "Yeah, Shawna. I actually met her brother, Duncan, through the program. That's how I met her. We dated for a while, but we broke it off before I left for football camp. Actually, _she_ broke it off. I guess she felt guilty because of our age difference. But we're still friends and I'm still volunteering as Duncan's Big Brother, so it's all good."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Grace spoke softly. "But I'm glad you were able to keep things civil. Good for you, Jack Pappas! I'm proud of you."

Jack raised his eyebrow. "I never thought I'd hear that after everything I did to you last year."

"The Lord teaches forgiveness. I know you're a good person at heart, Jack. You just made some pretty bad choices; we all do."

Jack dumped a sporkful of corn into his potatoes and gravy and began to stir it. "So you're really okay with everything then?"

"I really am," she nodded brightly. "Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm not sad anymore or that it doesn't still hurt when I think about my dad, but I've just turned that pain over to God and He's healing me. I think that God is letting my dad guide me – first to med camp, then to Grant – so he's not really _gone _after all. Does that make sense?"

Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said, once the corn and gravy had been mixed to the point of a lumpy brown sludge. "Having lost a dad myself, I guess it does."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"And who is taking care of Mercy while you're at school?" Mr. Molina asked, his head rotating between Adrian and Ben who were seated on the opposite side of his desk.

"My dad's hired a nanny. He said he'd be willing to sit with her if he could, but he's got the butcher shop to run-"

"Yeah, and my mom has got her job too," Adrian interjected.

"You know you're very fortunate to have a father who can provide you with the means for a nanny. Most teenage parents struggle to find and pay for daycare. That is, if they don't drop out entirely."

"Or they have to rely on so-called family and friends," Adrian added bitterly.

"Well we're not dropping out. I want to get my high school diploma and walk across the stage with my class. I haven't worked all these years to give that up now."

Adrian nodded. "Exactly. My mother and I have worked too long and too hard to throw that all away. And Mr. Boykewich is very supportive of us finishing our education. I'm very grateful to him that he's willing to support us financially, such as providing us with childcare for Mercy."

Mr. Molina nodded, apparently satisfied. "And how is school going? I know it's only your first day back, but are you feeling good about the year so far?"

"All except for Mr. Doonan's Biology class," Ben grumbled.

Mr. Molina smirked. "I met her for the first time in the teacher's lounge this morning. She's a…_handful_."

"That's the understatement of the century! Hey…there isn't any way-"

Mr. Molina held up his hand. "Nope. Sorry. I've had about ten kids walk through my door already this morning who have switched into other science classes. _Everything_ is full."

Ben snapped his fingers in frustration. "Right."

"So, is that everything then?" Adrian questioned, fidgeting slightly with her purse.

"Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?"

Adrian looked at Ben and then away to Mr. Molina again. "I just wanted to use the restroom before lunch was over," she lied.

"Oh, right. Well, yes then!" Mr. Molina stood up and offered his hand, shaking first Adrian's and then Ben's hands. "It was wonderful to see you both again and I'm happy to hear how well your summer and the parenting is going. I'd like to meet with you both again in another few weeks, just to get another status update, if you don't mind."

"Sure," Ben agreed. He reached for his cell phone only to pull a face. "Uh, sorry, when? My cell phone's still busted, so I don't have a calendar."

Adrian promptly produced her cell. "September twenty-eighth? That's the last Monday of September."

Ben nodded eagerly. "Sounds good to me."

"Alrighty, I'll make a note of that," Mr. Molina agreed.

Adrian punched a reminder alarm into her phone. "At lunch again?"

"Sounds excellent."

"Great! Thanks, Mr. Molina!"

Adrian nodded. "We'll see you soon." She edged out the door, hoping to head off down the hall before Ben could catch her, only for him to follow.

"Hey, where's the fire?"

Adrian spun around and flashed a watery smile. "I was just going to meet Grace. I'm already late," she half lied.

"Oh." Ben fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. "I was hoping we could talk."

"Well, we really don't have much of lunch left to do that anyway, so maybe after you get off work?" she offered. "If I have time after homework and everything."

Ben nodded. "Yeah. Okay, good. I'll look forward to it."

"Me too." She turned away and hurried down the hall and out the double doors. As soon as they had clanked shut, she stepped to the side and let herself collapse against the cement wall with a sigh of relief. A few minutes later she pulled out her phone again and began to type of a text message to Grace. Just as she'd finished and had her thumb hovering over the_ Send_ button, she heard the telltale sound of the bell. "Crap!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The bell above the door jingled as Ashley stepped over the threshold into her father's furniture store. She paused and let the door close by itself, taking in the layout of the shop. There were only a few straggling customers and as she studied them, she realized someone else was studying her. As soon as she spotted Ricky, she folded her arms and strode over to him. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm watching the store for your father."

"That's Donovan's job."

"Donovan's at the hospital."

The scowl on her face faltered. "Wh – is he okay?"

"He's fine, but one of his foster kids got into the middle of a fight at school because some other kids were picking on one of his foster sisters about having gay parents. I guess things got pretty ugly and everyone involved got suspended."

"What?" Ashley hissed. "How can they suspend you for suspending someone for defending their sister?"

"The school's got a no tolerance policy; doesn't matter who started it, if you were involved-"

"That BS."

"I know." Ricky peered over at the milling customers and shrugged. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"

"I walked."

"All the way from Grant?"

"Yes. Got a problem with that?"

Ricky shrugged. "Your feet, not mine."

"I like walking," she said dismissively. "It gives me a chance to clear my head."

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"I was hoping to talk to Donovan."

"About?"

"None of your business."

Ricky threw up his hands. "Fine. You're welcome to wait here until he gets back then. It's no skin off my nose."

"It's my dad's store," she replied bluntly. "Of course I can wait here if I want." Ashley tugged her backpack off her shoulder and dropped it onto a nearby display couch before plopping down onto one of the empty cushions herself.

"Do your mom and sister know where you are?"

"My mom's at work," Ashley glared. "She has a job at a hot dog stand because it's the only place that would hire her." She pulled her backpack into her lap and began to unzip it. "She was looking into night classes at college to try and finish the degree she abandoned when she got pregnant with Amy, but she's flat broke thanks to the lawyer's fees from the divorce. And Amy is at her friend Lauren's."

Ricky looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"I didn't tell you for pity. Actually, I don't know why I told you at all." She yanked a history textbook out of her backpack and opened it to a random page somewhere in the middle. "Don't tell my dad. My mom doesn't want him to know."

"She's embarrassed," Ricky nodded slowly.

"Yeah." Ashley turned her attention to her textbook. "Tell me when Donovan gets back. I wanted to interview him for a paper I was thinking of writing for my history class on the Gay Rights Movement."

"Excuse me?" a ginger haired woman asked, approaching Ricky. "Do you work here?"

Ricky nodded. "Yeah." To Ashley he added quietly, "I will," then he turned to the redhead and nodded. "Can I help you with something?"

"I was looking at that curio cabinet over there and I was wondering if you could tell me what the exact measurements are?"

"Sure," Ricky said, motioning her away from Ashley. "Let's go have a look."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben trudged down the hall. His arms and legged ached and his clothes reeked of raw meat. His consulting job at the butcher shop meant that heavy lifting and cutting meat were not in his job description, but someone had called in sick, so his father had reluctantly asked him to help in between consultations. The results had not been pretty.

"Adrian?" he called, steps before he reached the nursery. He sniffed his sleeve and grimaced. "Adrian!" When nobody answered, he raised his fist to the door and knocked once, quietly, then again, a little more loudly. Still, there was no answer. With a sigh, he jiggled the door handle and poked his head inside.

The _Dora the Explorer_ lamp on the dresser was on, but Adrian was nowhere in immediate view. Ben slowly pushed the door open a little further and spotted a half empty baby bottle on the dresser and then realized Mercy was tucked away in her crib. He made his way over to her and smiled down at the tiny sleeping form, cuddled up next to his beloved Mr. Bear. He leaned in and gave his little girl a soft kiss on her temple and the child only stirred slightly at his touch.

Then he turned around and spotted Adrian curled up in the old rocking chair Ben's father had built for his mother when Ben was born. Ben moved over to her and carefully slipped the open textbook and accompanying notes out of Adrian's lap. He marked the page with the notes before closing the text and setting it next to Adrian's backpack, then he grabbed a couple of Mercy's folded up receiving blankets and draped them over Adrian as she slept.

He stood staring at Adrian for a while, taking in the serenity she exuded in slumber. "I guess I'll have to take a rain check on that talk." Ben picked up the partially drunken baby bottle and retreated to the door. His hand was perched on the light switch as he paused in the doorway to survey the room. "Sweet dreams." He pulled the light switch down, flooding the room into cool darkness, illuminated only by the warmth of a pale pink night light beside Mercy's crib.


	9. Hot Buts

**A/N: **I tried and tried and tried to think of another title for this chapter, _but_ it wasn't happening. "But" (single t! :P) was a recurring theme in this chapter.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Hot Buts**

"Is Adrian calling _again?_"

Grace looked up from her cell phone and smiled awkwardly. "She's my best friend, Grant. I can't just ignore her."

"But tonight's supposed to be our night. Can't you just put everything else on hold for a while?"

Grace reluctantly dropped her cell phone back into her purse. "I know, but to be fair, I really haven't seen much of Adrian in the two weeks since I've been back. I'm spending all my time with you."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Of course not! It's just – Adrian misses me. And I miss her. I mean, don't you have a best friend that you care about like that too?"

"_You_ are my best friend," he smiled.

Grace reached across the table and slapped his hand playfully. "Girlfriends don't count!"

Grant shook his head. "No, actually, I don't. I'm more of a loner. I guess the closest thing to a best friend I have is my cousin."

"When are you going to introduce me to this mysterious Griffin anyway?"

"I can't believe you haven't run into him at school yet."

"Well he is a freshman and I'm a sophomore. And besides, I don't even know what he looks like."

"He's in choir," Grant said, producing his cell phone to show her a picture.

"Oh," the blonde nodded approvingly. "He's cute."

"He's gay."

Grace rolled her eyes. "And you don't have to be so jealous," she laughed. "You know the only guy I have eyes for is you."

"And that's the way I want it to stay."

A buzzing sound began to emanate from Grace's purse again and a pink heat flushed to her cheeks. She reached blindly into her purse as Grant opened his mouth – probably to protest – only to be interrupted by the waiter as he came over to deliver their dinner. She smiled sheepishly as she retrieved her cell. "I'll turn it off," she squeaked.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Is Grace still not picking up?"

Adrian pushed away her phone at the sound of her mother's voice. "Yeah. She's probably out with that Grant guy again."

"I'm sorry, _Chica_. I know how hard it is when your best friend gets a new boyfriend."

"It's not just that," Adrian groaned. "He's like a sponge; he soaks up all of her time and attention. I've barely spent ten minutes with her outside of school before he shows up and whisks her off somewhere. It's not healthy."

"Don't be jealous, Adrian. You know what it's like during the honeymoon phase of a relationship."

"Yeah, but…I don't know, I just don't like it."

"Maybe you should see if they'd like to go on a double date with you and Ben?" Cindy suggested.

"Ben and I aren't dating."

Cindy shrugged. "That doesn't mean you couldn't go out on _a date_. One doesn't have to mean the other."

"And what about Mercy?"

"What about Mercy? Don't use her as an excuse. I'm sure if you wanted to go out, Leo and I could work something out one night. Just because you're teenage parents in high school doesn't mean you shouldn't still be able to live your lives. I'm proud of you for honoring your responsibilities, but if you don't have time for yourself too, you'll wear yourself out and just become angry and resentful…and I say this from experience."

"Yeah, well, I'll think about it." Adrian rolled her eyes. "You look nice, by the way. I like the little black dress paired with the faux Gucci pumps look. Are you going out tonight?"

"Blind date."

"He's not married this time, is he?"

Cindy glared. "No. I made sure of that. I'm done with married men from now on." She folded her arms at the look on her daughter's face. "Don't give me that look! I really am. After everything that happened with George, I don't want to go through that kind of drama again." She grabbed her coat. "I'll see you later. _Adios._"

Adrian lifted her hand and gave a limp wave as the door closed. With a sigh she turned back to her laptop and stared at her blank Word document in disgust. "I am never going to get this written."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ricky sat on the edge of one of the display beds, rubbing unscented lotion into his dry hands. It was nearing dark outside according to his view of the store windows and the _OPEN_ sign had already been turned to _CLOSED_. He looked up at the shuffle of footsteps and saw Ashley treading out of Donovan's office. "How's your paper coming?"

Ashley closed the cover of the notebook she was holding and slipped her pencil into the looping wire binder. "Fine."

Ricky sighed at her monotone voice as she flopped down on display recliner. "Waiting for Donovan?"

"He's going to take me home when he gets the chance, but he's got inventory, so it won't be for another hour at least." She shrugged and propped her feet up onto an ottoman. "It's fine though, I have reading homework anyway."

"Amy can't pick you up?" he asked, recalling the fact that Anne had a night job.

"She doesn't have a car. Or a license."

"Oh." Ricky rubbed his hands together again and looked towards Donovan's door. "I – I could give you a ride…if you wanted."

Ashley raised her eyebrows. "You?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think so."

"What's wrong with me?"

A noise came out of the back of her throat, like a muffled, backfiring gun. She shook her head as she tried to stifle anymore laughter. "What _isn't_ would be a significantly shorter list."

"You know," Ricky growled, "just because I've been working for your father doesn't I'm afraid to tell you that you're a spoiled brat. Where do you get off talking to me the way you do? When did I deserve any of this?"

"Band camp," she said simply.

"I'm not the same person I was at band camp. Are you the same person you were last year?" he challenged. "Are you the same person who Adrian had to tutor because you were failing English and wearing mid-thigh miniskirts and belly tops to school?"

Ashley reflexively looked down at the midnight blue jeans and the matching, elbow-length satin dip-neck top she was wearing. "You can change your clothes and still be the same person on the inside."

"Perhaps, but that's not the case with you and I, is it?"

Ashley shot a wary look at Donovan's closed door and then reverted her attention back at Ricky. "Don't think I haven't caught you staring at my breasts when I'm talking to you. Do you think I don't notice when your eyes drop down and back up again? I'm not stupid."

Ricky felt a searing heat blind his cheeks and quickly tried to wipe them without drawing attention to that fact. "And yet it's not like you change your clothes," he spat.

Ashley stood up and raised a threatening finger at him. "Why should I change my clothes because you can't control yourself? I wear what I want because it makes me feel good about myself, not because I'm trying to cater to anyone else's fetishistic desires. Don't blame the victim!"

Ricky thrummed his fist against the mattress. "You know nothing about being a victim!"

Ashley winced back and the edge of her leg caught against the ottoman. She fell backwards, landing in a pile of arms and legs on top of it, and her eyes ballooned as she stared up at Ricky in a haze of panic.

The look on Ashley's face awakened something deep inside his gut and it felt as though his organs were imploding one by one. His craned his neck, catching his reflection in the mirror on glass topped vanity fashioned to look like a Hollywood vanity from the 1930's: his face had flushed the color of IT's nose and dark red veins were swelling from his neck. He saw himself morphing, and for a flash of a second, all he could see was his father staring back at him. Bile rose in his throat when the spell broke and he swiftly pushed off the bed. "I – I'm sorry," he stuttered to Ashley, before clawing his pockets for his keys and racing out of the furniture store without even bothering to collect his coat or his check for the week.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"We don't really have much in the way of food right now," Amy apologized as she stepped into the living room with a tray of crackers and sliced up squares of cheese. "I can get you a glass of water too, if you want, but our fridge looks like it belongs to a bachelor right now." She set the tray down on the coffee table between her and Ben's homework. "Do you want any water?"

Ben shook his head. "I'm good, thanks." He grabbed a slice of cheese and placed it in between two Ritz crackers like a sandwich. "Thanks! I love cheese and crackers."

Amy rolled her eyes. "You don't have to say that for my benefit, I know it's kind of a copout snack. My mom gets paid tonight, but that doesn't help us right now."

"Don't worry about it," Ben said sincerely. He put together another crack and cheese sandwich and offered it to Amy. "I'm sorry your mom's having such a hard time right now."

Amy accepted the cracker sandwich and nibbled on the corner. "Me too. It's not fair. My mom's given up so much for Ashley and I already. If I'm still up when she walks through the door at night, all I can think is that she looks like she's been through a tornado and tossed out the other end. I guess it's a blessing that my parents paid off the house years ago, because I know she wouldn't be able to make the payments on it now."

"Doesn't your dad pay child support?"

"Yeah, but he's struggling too. Business at the furniture store is in a decline right now and on top of that he's also got all those medical bills that he's making payments on because of his fractured foot." She rolled her eyes. "And he had to go and hire Ricky-"

"Ricky?"

"You didn't know?"

Ben shook his head. "Ricky's working for George?"

"Yeah. I guess he hired him so he can go drop a couch on someone else's foot. He claims Donovan couldn't handle running the business entirely by himself…which maybe I can understand since dad's laid up in bed, but of all the people he could hire, why did it have to be _Ricky?_"

"I wish there was something I could do."

Amy shook her head. "Yeah, well, I guess the only thing we can do is our homework, which we're not." She laughed uneasily and grabbed her pencil and notes from the table. "Thanks for letting me babble."

"That's one of the many things friends are for." He set his textbook into his lap and turned several pages to the end of the chapter. "We have to define the vocab at the end of this chapter. You want to take the first fifteen and I'll take the last?"

Amy grabbed her own textbook and nodded. "Sounds good." She smiled genuinely as she located the page number for the first vocab word in the chapter and began to flip the pages to find it. "Hey Ben?"

"Hm?"

"I know it sounds mean, but I'm glad Madison caught the flu."

Ben pressed his knuckles to his mouth and snickered a bit. "I'll let you in on a secret: I am too. You're a good study partner, Amy Juergens."

"And you're a good guy, Ben Boykewich."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I don't see your mom's car here," Grant said as they stood on Grace's front porch, bathed in the glow of the porch light.

Grace dug around in her purse in search of her house key. "Her and Tom went to help the church deliver food donations to the homeless."

"Oh? Are you expecting them back soon?"

Grace pulled out her cell phone to check the time. "Probably not for another half hour at least. _Aha!_" she yelled, bringing her house key into the light.

Grant slipped his arm around her waist and let it rest on her hip as Grace turned to unlock the door. "Soooo, that means your house is completely empty for the next half an hour, at least."

"Yep."

Grace turned around and gave her boyfriend a sugary peck on the lips. "Tonight was lovely, by the way. Thank you for taking me to Geoff's, the food was wonderful!"

Grant grabbed her wrist as she started to step over the threshold. "Grace," he said firmly.

Grace frowned as she turned to him. "Yes?"

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Grace laughed lightly. "Oh, I'm sorry." She felt her cheeks warm faintly. "I'm sorry, I would, but my mom's not home and-"

"That's the point."

The blonde bit down on her lip as she studied her boyfriend's determined face. "Look, Grant, I'm not that kind of girl, okay? You know I like you a lot, but I'm not ready to invite you up to my room. And even if the day comes when I am, I'm not going to have sex until I'm married. I'm sorry, but _no_."

"Wow."

"Wow?" Grace echoed. "I'm not sure how to take that reaction."

"You surprise me, Grace. Each and every day, you surprise me."

"In a good way?"

"I like that you stick to your convictions. You're a strong woman, Grace."

Grace leaned her head against the doorframe and smiled shyly. "Thank you."

"Would your convictions at least let you make out with me on the couch? Far, far away from your bedroom?"

"Grant," Grace sighed. She threaded her fingers through his and brought both of his hands up and jiggled them around a bit. "I like kissing you, I really do, but I don't want to do any more than that right now. Especially when my mom isn't home. I know you've had sex before and – and I don't know, maybe that leaves a person with the craving to do it again, but that's just not an option with me. Is that okay with you?"

Grant was quiet for a minute, just watching Grace's silver eyes as they moved back and forth, attempting to read him. "Okay," he said solemnly, "I can wait."

Grace giddily tossed her arms around his neck and kissed him again. "I appreciate that," she grinned. "I'll see later!"

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Grace frowned guiltily.

"What?"

"Tomorrow? I really need to spend a day with Adrian. At least once. Come on! It's only fair. I can't be yours all the time."

Grant let his head fall back on his shoulders. "Fine. But I'll call you."

Grace kissed his cheek. "I'm sure you will. Goodnight!" She stepped inside and shut the door. For a moment, she remained there quietly, then she pitched forward on her tiptoes to peer out the peek hole. She was surprised to find Grant still there, staring at the door as if it was her. She frowned as she waited for him to leave, which he didn't. Finally – reluctantly – she reached for the switch to the porch light and flicked it off, drowning her view of the porch from the peek hole into darkness. She waited again for another full minute, then she finally heard the clomp of his shoes descend down the stairs and she continued to stand there staring into the black hole until she heard his car drive off down the street.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I said I'm not inter…icky." Amy stood in the doorframe of her front door, dressed in her cotton nightgown and thin blue robe. "What are you doing here?"

"Is Ashley here?" Ricky asked quietly, avoiding eye contact with the sixteen-year-old.

Amy pulled the flaps of her nightgown across her chest and tied the waist synch into a knot. "Why are you interested in seeing my sister?"

"To apologize."

"For what?"

"That's really none of your business."

"She's my baby sister: of course it's my business."

"It's really not."

Amy looked a little stunned at the sudden sound of her sister's voice. She turned around to see Ashley standing in the hallway, still dressed in flannel red pajamas pants and a gray tank top. "Ashley-"

"I'll take it from here, thanks." Ashley moved up to the door and stared at her sister until the elder girl finally backed down and agreed to leave, but not before shooting a threatening look at Ricky before she did so. Once she was sure Amy was gone, Ashley stepped outside and shut the door behind her. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to apologize."

"For?"

"Last night," Ricky muttered, slightly annoyed at being forced to say exactly what for, when Ashley already knew.

"Why?"

"Because – because you _know_ why."

Ashley shook her head. "No I don't. You were right," she said, surprising him. "I don't know what it's like to be a victim." She looked down at her stocking feet. "_I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have said that to you, I was acting like a brat."

Ricky shrugged. "I guess we both owe each other an apology then, because you were right too: I have been…_looking_ at you. And I shouldn't have. You're fourteen, I'm seventeen…that's wrong."

"I'll be fifteen soon."

"Doesn't matter. You had a point, about the victim blaming. What you wear shouldn't matter. I can't blame you for not keeping my eyes to myself."

"I know about you and your dad," Ashley said softly. At his alarmed expression she quickly added: "Not everything. Just bits and pieces that were put together from things I overheard after Adrian was abducted. I was thinking about it last night, so I started looking on the online newspaper archives of the local paper for anything that mentioned 'Underwood.' I read some articles…and what I don't know, I think I can guess."

"He's not my dad," Ricky returned stubbornly. "He's a monster."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't need your pity."

"Fair enough," she agreed. "But maybe you could use a friend?"

"Before you read those articles – that I would have preferred to have remained buried in my childhood – you wanted nothing to do with me. Don't think that you somehow understand me now just because you know my dirty little secret."

"I'm not. The only thing I'm saying is that I was wrong to treat you the way I did and if you want to start over, I would like that too."

Ricky nodded slowly. "I don't have a lot of friends. Except for maybe Grace, but she's more of Adrian and Ben's friend than she is mine."

Ashley reached for Ricky's hand and slid hers into it. She looked at him expectantly as his hand shivered in hers, nearly ready to pull away. When it didn't, she let a very tiny, nearly imperceptible smile come onto her face. "I guess we can both say that we have one friend now."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"You completely turned him down?" Adrian laughed in disbelief. She was hunched over on her couch with her foot propped up on the edge of the coffee table as the morning sun streamed through the sliding glass and warmed the small living room.

Grace sat beside her friend, hunched over in the same uncomfortable position, painting her toenails a flirty pink color with gold sparkles. "You don't even like him, you should be happy!"

"I am!" Adrian retorted as she swished a coat of TARDIS blue polish over her pinky toe nail. "But still, it's damn crazy."

"So is getting caught up in the moment with a boy you barely know at summer camp," Grace shot back. "No offense, but I don't want to end up with a baby at sixteen. And I don't intend to, either."

"Well I'm glad you _finally_ found time in your boy crazy schedule for me. I was feeling neglected."

"I am a little disappointed you don't have Mercy today though, I wanted to see my favorite 'niece.'"

Adrian rolled her eyes. "As much as I'm sure Mercy would've loved a girls' day, I really needed the break from motherhood for a few blessed hours."

"Have you talked with Ben?"

"About?"

"You know what about: your relationship. Or lack thereof."

"Actually, I've been waiting to talk with you about that. I've been trying to do that ever since the first day of school. You have no idea how hard it's been avoiding him talking about 'us' lately. He's persistent!"

"Do you think you have the potential to become more than parents?"

"Maybe," Adrian said distantly. "Probably."

"But?"

"But I'm just worried: what if we try it and it doesn't work out? What if we make the situation worse that way? I want what's best for Mercy and I don't want to put her into that situation where she grows up with warring parents."

"I don't think that will happen. I just can't see it. You and Ben are good people; you wouldn't let your personal issues come before your daughter."

"I'm not always that good," Adrian admitted.

"You underestimate yourself."

"If I do get into a relationship with him – a real one – I'd want to take things slow. And I don't know if Ben's up for that."

"Why are you telling me this?" Grace asked suddenly. "I think that's the kind of thing you should be discussing with him right now, don't you?"


	10. Knock Knock, Who's Bare?

**A/N: **I quite enjoyed writing this chapter! I hope you like the changes I made to the episode as much as I do.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Knock Knock, Who's Bare?**

Ricky stood at his locker, trading the mathematics and English texts in his backpack for the history text and drumsticks in his locker. Every so often he would look to the corner of his eye, where he could see a shoulder-length redhead in a paisley t-shirt staring at him. Finally he swung his locker closed and turned and asked point blank, "Can I help you?"

The girl looked him over repeatedly as she approached him. "Hi."

Ricky folded his arms. "Hi."

"I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out this weekend."

Ricky looked her up and down skeptically. "I'm busy."

"Doing what?"

"What concern is it of yours?"

"You sure are hostile, aren't you?"

Ricky glared. "Have we met before?"

The girl smiled. "It's not your baby, if that's what you're wondering," she said, consciously touching her pregnant belly.

"No, I'm sure it's not. I'd remember you."

"Would you?" she smiled. "Word in hall is that you've been with a lot. Can't remember every pretty – or not so pretty – face, can you?"

"I'd remember yours."

The redhead's smile faded. "Yeah, I know, I'm not that pretty…"

Ricky's glare faltered. "I didn't mean it like that-"

"No matter," she interrupted. She shook her head. "I just thought that you, you know, being into pregnant girls, and really girls in general, and I, could have some fun."

"I don't bang pregnant chicks."

"Try telling that to Adrian Lee."

"That's none of your business!"

The redhead tossed up her hands in defense. "Sorry; didn't mean to strike a chord. I'm just saying, you don't seem to have a problem with single mothers. At least, not after last year. Everyone knows both you and Ben were clamoring to be the father of Adrian's baby, his sperm just happened to be faster I guess."

"That's a myth," Ricky corrected. "Sperm isn't fast. In fact, the egg pulls it in."

"Well then I guess Adrian's anatomy chose Ben long before her brain did."

"She didn't choose Ben. She didn't choose anyone."

"She will. He's the father of her baby."

"That doesn't mean anything. What do you think people divorce, remarry, and have more children for?"

She shrugged. "Whatever. All I came over here for was to find out if you wanted to hang out. I could show you a good time."

"What's your name?" Ricky finally relented.

"Heather," she said, offering her hand.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Heather," Ricky said sarcastically, "but I already know how to have a good time and I'm sorry, but you're not part of the plan."

"Pregnancy never is." Heather reached into her purse and pulled out napkin and a pen. She scribbled something onto it and then leaned over and tucked it into Ricky's jeans pocket. "Look, my parents already kicked me out of the house, so I have my own place. There's my number – and my address – you should give me a call. Or better yet, just show up. I've got nothing but time." She patted her stomach. "Four months, to be exact."

Ricky narrowed his eyes as he watched Heather saunter away, then he began to reach for the folded napkin in his pocket.

"I'm seeing a pattern here."

The drummer quickly lifted his head at the sound of Ashley's voice and half glared. "It's not what it looks like."

"And what does it look like?"

"She's not having my baby."

"That's a relief." Ashley zeroed in on his pocket. "So what was she talking to you for?"

Ricky frowned and looked in the direction of the hallway where Heather had disappeared into the crowd. "That's an excellent question."

Just then Grace swept by, giving Ricky and Ashley a good natured wave as she passed, all the while with her cell phone pressed to her ear. "Grant, come on! Please? For me?"

"I don't think this is a good idea," Grant's voice answered back, saturated in skepticism.

"I really want to! I think it would be a good thing for both of us!"

"Respecting your wishes is one thing, but airing what goes on between us in public is something else."

"But that's the whole point!" Grace argued as she got to her locker. "The abstinence group is so that we can have a supportive community while we choose to not have sex and equally so that we may support others who have the same goals."

"But it's different for you. You're a virgin, but I've had sex before."

"Abstinence is not synonymous with virginity: you can still abstain from sex and not be a virgin. C'mon, pleeeease? I'm sure there will be other people there who aren't virgins."

"Yeah,_ right_."

"Grant!" Grace whined. "Do this one little thing for more, please?"

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. "I'll think about it."

"Yay!" Grace peeped. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"I didn't say I would!" he corrected. "That's the equivalent of a 'maybe,' all right?"

"All right," she agreed. "I gotta go now. I'll talk to you later!" She shut her phone and simultaneously shut her locker and turned to see Adrian standing beside her, looking amused.

"What was that all about?"

"I'm trying to get Grant to go to a teen abstinence meeting at my church with me tonight." Suddenly her eyes lit up and Adrian backed away.

"Oh no. No, no, no!" Adrian said, shaking her finger at her friend. "Don't even think about it!"

"Oh come on!" Grace beamed. "Won't you come?"

"Nope. I am not an abstinence kind of girl. I have a baby, remember? And I had sex with Ben over the summer."

"So that doesn't mean you couldn't start implementing abstinence now! Please, Adrian? Come for me? I told Grant that there would probably be others there who have had sex before. It'd be great if you came too!"

"You're trying to get me to go for the guy who keeps hogging all of my best friend's attention?" Adrian asked skeptically. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"You could bring Ben!"

"Oh what?" Adrian blurted out sarcastically. "Like a date to an abstinence meeting? _That's_ romantic!"

"So you're dating then?"

"Not yet, but I was planning on talking to him about things tonight."

"Why didn't you do so over the weekend?"

"Between him studying with Amy and the essay I had to write over the weekend, we really didn't have time."

"Well this is perfect then! You can bring him to the abstinence meeting and then talk things over with him afterwards!"

"Oh yes! Because talking about not having sex is the perfect segue into a relationship." Adrian patted Grace on the top of the head condescendingly. "Thanks, but no thanks."

Grace screwed up her face. "Well it starts at six at the church, if you're interested. And just so you know: it would really mean a lot to me if you came."

"I could make a very dirty joke right now, but since you're my best friend, I won't."

Grace stared at Adrian for a moment, then her face began to flush. "Adrian!"

Adrian shrugged. "I've got to get to class," she winked. "I'll see you later!"

"Yeah," Grace grumbled as her friend started to walk off. "Six o' clock, don't forget!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ricky faced an old wooden door with peeling brown paint and some graffiti plastered across the front. He looked down at the napkin in his hand which stated Heather's apartment number to be _102-B_, the same as the one he was standing in front of, though the number two had fallen off and the _B_ was rusted. He lifted his arm and knocked uncertainly.

A moment later there was a shuffling, followed by the clanking sound of a chain, then the grinding sound of two locks, and finally the door peeled back to reveal Heather poking her eye out. As soon as she saw Ricky, her face lit up and she whipped the door open. "I didn't think you were coming."

"Neither did I."

Heather stepped aside and motioned her arm. "Do you want to come in?"

Ricky stuffed the napkin with her address back into his pocket and crept inside. The first thing he noticed was an odor: a mixture of mold and old cat urine. He discreetly turned his head and noticed that the apartment was not furnished, save for a few dirty throw pillows on the gray floor, which was spotted with some very obvious stains that had probably been there for years. He cringed internally.

"Sorry there's not really a place to sit," she apologized as she closed and locked the door. "I don't have money for furniture. What I do have – those pillows over there and a mattress in my bedroom – are things I pilfered from out by the dumpster when some other tenants were moving out."

"It's fine," Ricky said as she sat down Indian style on the floor.

"Not it's not. This is no way for anyone to live," Heather said as she struggled to bend over and sit down beside him. "But it's either this or the streets."

"What about the father?"

"Please!" Heather scoffed. "You think every pregnant girl has a Ricky and a Ben? I haven't talked to the father since I told him he was a father."

"Why didn't you get an abortion?"

"I couldn't do that. It wasn't the baby's fault I fucked up and let myself get seduced by a guy who only saw me as an object for his pleasure."

"But you're not keeping it?"

"Her. And no, does it look like I can keep her? I can't even take keep myself up. I tried to hide the pregnancy for as long as I could, until none of my clothes fit anymore, and then when I told my parents, they kicked me out: if I'm old enough to have sex, I'm old enough to live on my own. So I spent sixteen years worth of birthday money on first and last month's rent."

"Couldn't you find anything better?"

"Believe it or not, this was the best. And yet I've still got cockroaches in my cupboards, so I have to keep my cereal in the fridge, which leaks all over the floor every few days."

"Do you work?"

"At a Dollar Tree for minimum wage." She shook her head. "That's not me asking for money. I-" She held her breath, unable to finish the sentence.

"So what made you come to me?"

"I just wanted to try and capture a little of that hope that Adrian had last year. I thought that maybe if I could talk to you – maybe hear some of the words that gave Adrian the courage to keep going by someone who wasn't the father of her baby – that maybe I could make it too."

"It was different with me and Adrian," Ricky confessed quietly. "I loved her. I _still_ love her. And nobody knew who the father of her baby was, but I wanted it to be me. So did Ben. And he won out."

"If only I could be so lucky."

Ricky reached his hand forward and let it settle on Heather's knee. "I'm not that good with my emotions, Heather. Adrian was a unique situation. And I'm sorry I can't be more help to you right now."

Heather shook her head. "You being here at all means more than I can say."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian watched Ben from the doorway of the nursery as he stood at the changing table, swapping out Mercy's dirty diaper for a fresh one. "What are your plans tonight?"

Ben shrugged. "I've got my homework caught up except for a couple of reading responses that are due Wednesday, but why do today what I can put off for tomorrow, right?"

Adrian smiled. "So you're free then?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well…" She rolled her eyes as she stepped into the room. "Grace invited me to this thing and I don't really want to go, but…it would mean a lot to her if I did."

Ben raised his eyebrows. "What kind of thing?"

"Erm…an abstinence only kind of thing?"

Ben fastened the adhesive on Mercy's diaper and snapped the buttons together on her onesie. "A little late for that, isn't it?"

"Not according to Grace it's not. So – do you want to go with me?"

Ben jiggled his daughter in his arms. "Are you asking me out?"

"What if I am?"

Ben kissed the top of his daughter's head. "Then I think I can go ask my dad about babysitting. I have a sneaking suspicion he just might accept."

Adrian grinned.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Grant! You came!" Grace bounded out from behind the podium and darted across the gymnasium to throw her arms around her boyfriend in glee. "Thank you so much!" Then she realized: "And you brought a friend." She stuck out her hand unabashedly. "Hi, I'm Grace!"

"I've heard a lot about you," the boy smiled. "And I'm not just a friend, I'm-"

"Griffin!" Grace nodded excitedly. "Yes, I know. I've seen pictures. I've heard a lot about you too. I'm so excited to finally meet you! I'm surprised – but delighted – that you came."

"Dragged along for the ride is more appropriate," Griffin joked. "But I more or less came to meet you: the girl who hath stole my cousin's heart."

Grace slapped Grant's chest playfully. "Oh come on, you don't brag about me that much, do you?"

"I hope you brag about me as much as I brag about you."

Grace pecked Grant on the lips and then turned to his cousin. "Well, I hope that even if you did come by force, you still get something useful out of this. Are you abstaining from sex too?"

Griffin looked around as a few teenagers began to trickle into the gym. "That depends on how tonight goes, I suppose. Is your church gay friendly?"

"Well the abstinence meeting is not just for Christians," Grace replied cheerfully. "It's for any and all teenagers who want to wait to have sex. But, in answer to your question, yes, our church doesn't discriminate based on sexual orientation."

"And it's perfectly okay to be here if you've had sex before?"

"Have you?"

Griffin just smiled.

Grant coughed to get Grace's attention. "Why don't you help us find some chairs?"

Griffin reached around to pat Grant's back. "Good idea."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"You almost ready?" Ben asked as he peeked into the nursery to see Adrian leaning over Mercy's crib, tucking the sleepy infant in.

"Yeah, I'll be right down." She heard Ben walk off as she leaned in to kiss Mercy on her cheek. "Mommy and Daddy will be back later. You be good for Grandpa Leo, you hear?" As she turned away from the crib, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and pulled it out without bothering to look at the caller I.D. "I'm coming!" she snapped playfully into the receiver.

"You don't even know the address."

Adrian stiffened. "Ricky?"

"To be honest, I didn't think you'd answer. I guess you must have been expecting someone else."

"What do you want?"

"I have a favor to ask."

"I think you ran out of those."

"It's not for me."

"Then who is it for?"

"It's for Heather."

Adrian squinted. "Who's Heather?"

"She's a sophomore. Tall, red hair…_pregnant_."

"Don't tell me you're the father."

"No. Actually, the father walked out on her as soon as he found out."

Adrian suddenly looked back at her sleeping daughter in the crib. A sudden heavy feeling implanted itself in her stomach, almost as though she'd eaten too much and was feeling sick in the aftermath. "What's the favor?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Twenty minutes later Adrian found herself standing outside of Heather's apartment door. She nervously pushed a wave of raven hair over her shoulder and then staunchly knocked on the door. She listened as the locks groaned and creaked and forced a nervous smile when she finally saw Heather's face as the door opened.

"Ricky sent you?" Heather let her head drop. "You didn't need to come over here."

Adrian pressed her manicured hand to the door and pushed it open enough so that she could walk in, even though she hadn't been invited. "Yeah I did." The ripe smell of the apartment was overpowering and Adrian had to keep swallowing to avoid the bile rising at the back of her throat.

"It's a shit hole," Heather said as she observed Adrian looking around.

"You're doing the best you can and believe me, I understand that."

"Yeah?" Heather said sarcastically. "That's easy for you to say: you had two boys who wanted to be the father of your baby, supportive parents for all parties involved, and then the guy who does turn out to be your baby daddy is as rich as sin."

"That may be my situation right now, but it hasn't always been. I used to live in an apartment not too different from this when I was pretty little. My mother got pregnant at seventeen and was a single mom. Her parents hated her for shaming the family and as soon as she could, she took me and got away from them. But to provide for us, she sacrificed our relationship. All things considered, she eventually got a job as a stewardess and did well financially, for a single mom. But there was a cost: a sacrifice. We'll never have the bond that we should and we both resent each other in certain ways for that."

Heather shook her head. "I didn't know."

"Well it's not like that's something I enjoy broadcasting, but you clearly needed to hear it."

Heather hugged her stomach. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"How much does it hurt?"

Adrian laughed. "You ever had menstrual cramps?"

Heather nodded.

"Well think of that: on steroids. It's pretty ugly, even if you choose to labor in the water."

"Water?"

"Yeah, I had a water birth, which means I didn't get the epidural, so I don't know how much that hurts or helps. I just know I didn't want to take the drugs."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated, actually," she looked down at her watch, "and honestly, I'm supposed to be somewhere…ten minutes ago. But look: I have a lot of information on birthing and birthing options. If you wanted to get together sometime, we can go over all of that, no problem."

"Really? It's not an inconvenience?"

"Absolutely not. I know firsthand – two times over – that you need all the support you can get right now. I'm willing to help." She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Heather. "That's my house, cell, and address. Call any time, day or not. Or come over."

"Thank you." Without warning, she reached out and hugged Adrian tightly. "Thank you," she said again, this time with her voice breaking.

Adrian reached her arm around Heather's frame and embraced her as the younger girl began to whimper against her shoulder. She closed her eyes as she felt her shirt become wet with tears. "It's okay," she soothed. "It's gonna be okay."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Well that was invigorating," Griffin said from the backseat. He reached out to touch Grace's shoulder. "Is something wrong?"

Grace pressed the back of her head against the headrest. "Besides my mother forgetting to pick me up?" she asked rhetorically. She slumped to the side and laid her cheek against the icy glass of the passenger window. "I just really thought that Adrian and Ben might show up, that's all."

"Maybe they had other things to do?" Grant suggested. "You did say that Adrian was thinking of starting a relationship with him, didn't you?"

"Yeah, maybe they got caught up talking," she sighed.

"I don't think that's what he meant," Griffin mumbled.

"What?"

Grant glared at the rearview mirror.

"Nothing! Just talking to myself," Griffin smiled cheekily.

"Her car's in the driveway," Grant observed as he pulled up to the curb beside Grace's house. "And the light's on in her bedroom."

"Maybe she fell asleep?"

Grace snorted. "Well whatever she did, I'm going to have a firm talking with her about this. You can't just go dropping your kids off and promising to pick them up and then abandoning them like that!" She shook her head as she unbuckled herself. "But thank you for taking me home!" She leaned across the seat to give her boyfriend a goodbye kiss and then waved to Griffin. "It was nice meeting you!"

"Likewise!" Griffin agreed.

Grace slipped out of the car and hurried up the walkway with her house key in hand. She unlocked the door in a rush and stepped inside to find it dark. A sudden flare of worry hissed through her skin. "Mom?" She moved to the stairs and ascended them in a flash. A light was streaming from beneath her mother's bedroom door and with a renewed worry she moved to it and threw it open. "Mo –" The word hitched in her throat as her eyes adjusted to the sight before her: naked arms and legs entangled in her mother's – nay, her _parents'_ – bed.

"Grace!"

Grace's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my God!"

Kathleen sat up in a hurry, holding the sheet against her chest. "I can explain!"


	11. Cramped Your Style

**A/N: **Phew, after chapter nine I was a little worried, but you all came back in chapter ten!

_**Turning Tables**_

**Cramped Your Style**

"How could you?" Grace screamed as Kathleen chased her down the stairs.

"It's more complicated than you think!" Kathleen tried desperately to explain.

"Dad hasn't even been gone five months!" Grace bellowed as she blew into the kitchen. The first thing she saw was a bowl of fruit sitting on the counter. In her rage she grabbed the bowl and smashed it to the floor, shattering the Pyrex everywhere, blasting open several bananas, bruising an orange, and sending a red apple rolling to her mother's feet.

"I didn't plan this, Grace, it just happened!"

"You could've fooled me!" Grace hollered, her face the color of the floored apple. "I waited for forty-five minutes for you to come pick me up only to come home and find you having premarital sex in _Dad's bed!_"

"I should probably go. I – I'm really sorry."

Grace turned her steely gray eyes away from her mother. "Looks like your fracture's healed up nicely. Nice enough for you to climb into my father's bed! Who the hell do you think you are?"

George looked guiltily towards Kathleen.

"Just go."

"Yeah, go onto the next bed!" Grace screamed. "Maybe you can you check the obituaries to find one!"

"Grace, that's enough!"

Grace pounded her fist against the table at the same time the front door shut. "No! No it's not! Not even five months! Why? Why? How could you do this to Dad? And with your ex-husband of all people!" Grace sunk to the floor amongst the shatter Pyrex and yellow banana guts and began to cry. "I don't understand this at all," she whimpered. "How can I go talk to a whole gymnasium of people my age about not having sex and then my own mother goes and sleeps with her ex-husband in my father's bed behind my back?"

Kathleen pushed the Pyrex pieces away with her slipper as she moved to squat down next to Grace. "It only just happened tonight," she sighed. "It's not as if it's been an ongoing thing. I was thinking of refurbishing the guest house and I asked George to come over and take a look with me. Then we got to talking, I offered him a few drinks, and suddenly we were rehashing the good times and then one thing just led to another."

"In Dad's bed?"

"It's my bed now," Kathleen said gently. "And I'm sorry. I really am. I'm sorry I didn't pick you up, I'm sorry about George, and I'm so sorry you walked in on us like that."

Grace sniffled and rubbed her nose with her sleeve. "So what does this mean? Are you and him…"

"I don't know." Kathleen shook her head. "I don't know."

"I hate you." Grace pushed herself away from her mother and stomped over the broken Pyrex, heading up the stairs to her room.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Wakey, wakey…"

Grace pried her eyes open and found herself under Adrian's shadow. She rolled onto her back and rubbed her eyes with her fists. "What are you doing here?" she yawned. "What time is it?"

Adrian sat down on the edge of her friend's bed, allowing the full brunt of the morning sunlight to beam across Grace's face. "It's time for you to get up, because at this rate," she pointed to the alarm clock, "we're both going to be at least ten minutes late for our first classes."

Grace pulled her sheets up over her head. "I don't want to go to school today."

"Does anyone?" Adrian pulled the sheets back down. "I came to apologize for not making it to your group last night, Ben and I were on our way, but we got sidetracked." She stood and moved to the blonde's closet and began to rifle through for something for her friend to wear.

"Sidetracked with what?" Grace questioned grumpily.

"Do you know Heather?"

"Can you be more specific? There are plenty of Heathers in the world."

"She goes to Grant, she's in your grade this year, red hair, pregnant-"

Grace suddenly nodded. "Oh, yeah, I know who you're talking about now, but I've never met her personally. What about her?"

"Well I met her last night. I guess you could say I'm kind of acting as a mentor to her. That's why Ben and I weren't there. Ricky," she sighed, "Ricky called right as we were leaving and asked me if I'd detour there to talk to her. I guess she approached him at school and really needed some moral support and he thought I was in a unique position to help her." Adrian tossed a yellow and white sundress and a white sweater onto Grace's bed. "Now I've told you what's up with me, so you tell me what's up with you."

Grace finally pushed her covers off, reluctantly, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb. Your mom told me you two had a fight last night. What happened?"

Grace covered her face with her hand. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Grace, I'm your best friend. If you can't tell me, who can you tell?"

The blonde shook her head into her palm. "Adrian, please, I really don't want to even think about it right now. I'm pretty sure I had nightmares about it."

"What could be_ that_ bad?" Adrian mused.

"How about walking in on my mom…in the Biblical sense."

Adrian's jaw dropped. "What? Are you serious?"

"That's not even the worst part," Grace whispered. She stood up and grabbed the clothes Adrian had picked out for her. "It was with Mr. Juergens!"

"George?"

"The one and only."

"No way!"

"In my parents' bed."

The horrified amusement drained from Adrian's face. "I'm sorry, Gracie," she said suddenly. "I – that's horrible."

"You're preaching to the choir."

"If I'd known-"

"It's all right," Grace interrupted. "I'm not mad at you. Or Ben. It sounds like you were right where God needed you to be last night. But me? Not so much. If I could scrub that image out of my head for good I would. I just don't understand how she could do that to me. And Tom. And Dad!"

Adrian followed Grace to her door. "I'm not trying to take sides here, Grace, but I doubt your mom was trying to do anything to hurt anyone. She has needs too."

Grace's face grew hard and she stomped into the hallway. "It hasn't even been five months!"

Adrian held up her hands. "I know. I know! I'm just saying: there could be worse guys for your mom to be with. Infidelity aside, George is a pretty good guy-"

"It doesn't change the fact that it's way too soon for her to be seeing anyone."

"Too soon for her or too soon for you?"

"Too soon for _everyone_; it's completely disrespectful!" Grace charged into the bathroom and slammed the door.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Mind if I sit with you?"

Ashley turned to see Ricky standing behind her, holding his hot lunch tray. She shrugged and scooted down the bench. "Sure."

"Thanks." Ricky slid in next to her and began to absently peel the salami slices off his pizza. "Hey, I've been thinking…you wanna help me with something?"

"Like a favor?"

"Yeah."

Ashley narrowed her eyes. "Isn't it kind of early in our relationship for favors?"

Ricky rolled his eyes. "Yes or no?"

"What is it?" she relented.

"I was wondering if you might want to help me help out this girl."

"Like a girl-you-want-to-have-sex-with girl?"

"No, Heather, the one you saw me talking to in the hall yesterday. I want to help her out. I told you: her parents kicked her out and she's stuck in a pretty shitty set of circumstances."

Ashley bit into her apple and chewed as she mulled over the idea. "Yeah, but what can we do for her? I'm fourteen, I don't have any money you know."

"Yeah, but you have some spare time, don't you? And since your dad's foot is healed, he no longer needs me at the furniture store, so I thought maybe we could help her clean up her apartment or something."

"Not that I disagree, but why? I mean, what makes this so important to you all of the sudden?"

"I just feel for her and I think that maybe I could finally do something good with myself to help her. Even if it's not that much. I guess I want to pay it forward. A lot of people have helped me over the years. Margaret and Shakur, my teachers, Dr. Fields…Now I think I could help someone else. Maybe not completely out of a bad situation, but at least ease the burden."

Ashley nodded contemplatively. "Okay," she agreed. "What's your plan?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"That awkward moment when you're stuck in a smelly band room with a bunch of people you really don't want to be hanging out with," Ashley whispered.

Amy roughly elbowed her sister in the side, then her eyes wandered up to the clock on the wall. It was twenty after three and she was squished into a seat between Ashley and Grace.

"I think that's a really thoughtful idea, Ricky," Grace agreed enthusiastically. She looked to Adrian. "Do you think you could pull it off?"

Adrian pushed her hair over her shoulder and smirked. "Absolutely." She touched Ben's hand, who she was sitting beside. "But we'd have to check with your dad to make sure he's willing to have the nanny around for a few more hours."

Ben nodded and reached into his pocket for his new cell phone. "I'll phone him right now, but I'm betting he won't mind." He quickly excused himself from the room as he dialed.

Grace tapped her bottom lip in thought. "I bet I could make some homemade frozen dinners for her too!"

"Homemade frozen dinners?" Amy murmured.

Grace glanced at her warily. "Yeah. You know, like the ones you get at the store that you just throw in the oven, but _better,_ because I can make them all from scratch! I make a _mean_ scratch lasagna."

Ashley looked up curiously. "That's a good idea, Grace. Maybe Amy could help you out? That's a lot of cooking for one person."

Amy shot her sister a dirty look. "Then it would just be you and Ricky cleaning out Heather's apartment by yourselves?"

Ricky shrugged indifferently. "It's really small and all she owns are some pillows and a mattress, so I'm sure we could handle it if you wanted to help out Grace." He nodded to the blonde. "That's a good idea, by the way. I'm sure Heather would really appreciate that. But that's another thing that needs to be fixed: her refrigerator. It leaks. Actually, the freezer leaks. It freezes and then the ice melts. She's not sure what's wrong with it."

"Sounds like she just needs an entirely new fridge," Adrian spoke up.

"Well none of us have the money for that and she sure doesn't," Ricky frowned. "I could try to do some research online and see if there's some way to fix it for her or at least stay the problem, but it might be hit-or-miss."

"Well I'll still make some things up for her. In the worst possible scenario, I could put it all in my fridge and pop over like Meals on Wheels."

"But you don't have any wheels to speak of," Adrian pointed out.

Grace glared. "Not _yet,_ but hopefully soon. But _you_ could always drive me."

"Great, so it's settled," Ashley said. She looked to Adrian: "You'll get Heather out of her apartment tomorrow afternoon and leave the door unlocked so Ricky and I can get in to clean up and you two," she said, forming her fingers into a peace sign and pointing them at Grace and Amy, "will stock up her freezer."

Grace and Amy looked at each other uneasily as Ben trotted back into the band room, giving the group a thumbs up.

"We're good to go?" Adrian grinned.

Ben nodded as he tucked his phone away and came back to sit down by his girlfriend. "I wish I didn't have to work so I could help out too," he sighed.

"I think we've got it under control." Adrian looked to Ricky and smiled genuinely. "I'm really glad you thought of this, Ricky. I wish my mom had had someone to do this for her when she was pregnant in high school."

"So tomorrow: you'll head over to Heather's about this time?" Ricky asked in confirmation. "And Ashley and I will just follow you?"

Adrian nodded. "Sounds good."

Amy pursed her lips and looked to the ex-cheerleader. "Um…do you want me to see if my dad can just drop me off at your house then-"

Grace bit her teeth into her lower lip and winced. She caught Adrian's watchful eye from and shook her head. "No need," she said, her voice suddenly a bit tart. "You can, uh, ride the bus home with me."

Amy nodded uncertainly. "Okay." She shot her sister another foul look.

Ashley smirked. "Isn't this going to be _fun_."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The following afternoon, Adrian swung her black leather purse back and forth under her arm as she strode down the hall of Heather's apartment building and knocked loudly on her door. She tapped the toe of her shoe as the locks hissed and whined on the other side of the door, then she smiled brightly at the redhead. "Hey."

Heather smiled back and quickly stepped aside. "Come in, come in. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were going to be early, I'm almost ready."

"No worries," Adrian grinned. "I'll wait." She sauntered over to the counter and set her purse down as Heather hurried back into her bedroom to continue getting ready.

"So where exactly are we going again?" Heather called out.

Adrian glanced into the kitchen and noticed a puddle of water at the base of the refrigerator. "Have you ever done yoga before?"

"Not really. I used to be in ballet when I was younger though."

"Not quite the same thing," the Latina laughed. "But I think you'll enjoy it. It's a prenatal yoga class."

"How much does it cost?"

"Don't worry about it."

Heather remerged from her room with a duffle bag on her shoulder. "I can't let you pay for me," she said quietly, her face reddening. "You've got your own baby and expenses."

Adrian held up her finger and shook her head. "I already booked it and it's already paid for. Seriously, don't worry about it. I took one or two classes at this place when I was pregnant with Mercy. It's really good."

Heather sighed. "I feel like I owe you."

"Then pay me back by actually going to the class."

Heather sighed. "Thank you."

"_De nada."_ She snapped her fingers. "Now let's go!"Adrian hustled the redhead out of the apartment and waited as she locked the door behind her. There was an uncomfortable silence as they moved down the hall together and got all the way out to Adrian's red convertible before the Latina looked down at her arm and feigned shock. "Shit!"

"What?"

"I left my purse on your counter."

Heather began to walk back towards the steps, reaching into her duffle bag as she went. "I'll go get-"

"No!" Adrian held out her hand. "Just hand me the key, you don't need to run all the way back up there. I know what the swollen feet and all that extra weight is like."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Heather handed over her apartment key. "Thanks."

"No problem." Adrian hurried back through the apartment building and up to Heather's door. Once she was inside, she moved to her purse, pulled out her cell phone, and began a quick text message.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

_I'm in. I'm leaving the door unlocked, so hurry up and text me back to let me know that you got in okay._

Ricky flashed his phone to Ashley with a smile. He was sitting in the driver's seat of his car and Ashley in the passenger seat, parked on the curb outside the front of Heather's apartment building, instead of the main parking lot. They waited in silence for a few minutes, until he saw Adrian's convertible driving out of the parking lot via his rearview mirror. "Let's go!"

Ashley climbed out of the passenger side as Ricky popped the trunk and she grabbed a bag of rags while he unloaded a plastic mop bucket full of cleaning supplies. "I'll come back down for the mop and broom."

Ricky shut the trunk with a thud. "No, I'll do it. I don't want you wandering around in this neighborhood by yourself."

"I'm not a baby," she scowled.

"You're not an adult either."

"Neither are you."

"I'm a lot closer to one than you are. Besides-"

"You're a _boy_?" she cut in sarcastically.

"I was going to say: I've lived in neighborhoods like this before."

"How do you know I haven't?"

Ricky looked at her as they moved down the apartment building hallway. "You haven't."

When Ricky stopped, Ashley stopped too. She looked at the door. "This is it?"

"Yeah. Prepare yourself."

Ashley twisted the door knob and stepped inside, wincing at the odor. "I don't understand how parents can kick their own child out for being pregnant."

"Parents have the potential to do a lot of things people can't fathom," Ricky said as he set the cleaning bucket onto the floor beside the door. "Stay inside," he said, locking the door. "I'll be right back."

Ashley rolled her eyes as the door shut. She dropped the rag bag where she stood and then bent down to inspect the cleaning products. She grabbed a pair of yellow rubber gloves that had been draped over the side of the bucket and then opted for a stained white washcloth and a bottle of 409 to start off with.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Is your mom going to be gone all afternoon?" Amy asked as she squirted a nickel sized drop of green apple scented hand soap into her palm and began to lather up her hands under the running water of Grace's kitchen sink.

"Hopefully."

"Fight?"

"Huh?"

"Between you and your mom," Amy elaborated. "You just seem a little – I don't know – less cheerful than you usually are."

Grace smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I shouldn't be taking this out on you. Uh, yeah, we did have a fight."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

Grace quickly turned to her cupboards and began to pull down bags of flour and sugar. "Not really."

Amy nodded understandably. "Fair enough," she agreed as she rubbed her hands dry on the hand towel. "So where do I start?"

"With an apron," Grace laughed as she pulled one out of the drawer. "And then…I suppose we can start with a spaghetti sauce. Those freeze pretty well for multiple meals. Can you start by chopping up some fresh tomatoes?"

"Sure, but I should warn you, I am no cook. In fact, I kind of really suck at it."

"I'll do all the actual cooking then, you just help me prepare the ingredients. Sound good?"

"I'll guess we'll see how it goes."

Grace placed her hand on Amy's shoulder. "You'll be fine!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ashley suddenly braced herself against the edge of the bathtub she was scrubbing and turned to look at Ricky, who was hard at work scrubbing the toilet bowl. "Is it just me or was that a knock at the door?"

Ricky tapped the toilet wand on the edge of the bowl and set it to rest in its holder. "I don't know," he said, peeling off his rubber gloves. "You stay here, I'll go check." He set the gloves on the floor and found his way out to the front door, just as another knock sounded. "Who's there?" he called roughly.

"It's Jack! Open up!"

"Jack?"

Ricky turned and glared at the fourteen-year-old. "I thought I told you to stay in the bathroom?"

"I don't take orders well."

Ricky snorted as he opened the door to find Jack standing outside in front of an old refrigerator. "What's this?"

"What does it look like?" Jack asked, stepping inside and signaling for the men hauling in the fridge to do the same. "Grace said that Heather needed a new fridge, so I talked to my dad. It's not new, but it's in workable condition. It doesn't leak or anything."

"Where did you get it?"

"From one of the members of our church. He just had it sitting around in storage, so we paid him for it. He gave us a good deal."

"And who are they?" Ricky asked, indicating the men Jack was with.

"Oh!" Jack motioned towards the men. "This is Oliver and this is Chase. They also go to my church."

"Nice to meet you," Oliver said, offering his hand.

Ricky shook it tentatively and then shook Chase's. "You too."

"Who's the chick?"

Ricky whipped his head around at the voice from the doorway and spotted a young African-American boy who didn't look too much older than Ashley. "And him?" he questioned, looking suspiciously at Jack.

Ashley peered around Ricky.

"That's my Little Brother," Jack beamed. "Duncan, Ricky. Ricky, Duncan."

Duncan skirted around Ricky to take another look at Ashley. "I didn't ask about him," he said dismissively.

Ricky stepped between them again. "This is my friend-"

"Ashley," she interrupted. "Ashley Juergens." She stared at him. "You're his brother?"

"Brother from anotha motha!"

"I'm in the Big Brother program," Jack laughed. "I asked Duncan if he wanted to ride over with me to deliver the fridge."

"And I'm soooo glad I did!" he whistled.

"Yeah, well, thanks, but I think we've got things under control."

Ashley looked at Ricky amusedly. "More help couldn't hurt."

"And weren't you the one telling your sister that you and I could handle it by ourselves?"

Ashley shrugged innocently. "Was I?"

Jack grinned a little. "C'mon, we're just wasting time now. Let's get that defective one outta here!" he snapped his fingers. "Spit spot!"

Duncan rolled his eyes. "'Spit spot,' where does he even come up with this stuff?"

Ashley smirked. "_Mary Poppins_."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Heather fanned herself as she stepped out of the changing room. "I'm pretty sure that was the most vigorous workout I've ever done," she groaned.

"It wasn't, it only feels that way because of the pregnancy."

"I think I'm going to wake up sore tomorrow."

"It's surprisingly refreshing, actually." She pushed open the door for Heather and noticed that a wind was beginning to kick up as they stepped outside. "Hey, you wanna grab a post-workout smoothie?"

"I don't know…" Heather murmured reluctantly. She looked at her watch. "It's getting kind of late and I still have homework. And I'm broke."

"I'll cover it."

"You just paid for the yoga."

"And?"

"And I don't want to take advantage."

"You're not. I wouldn't be offering if I couldn't afford to splurge just a little."

Heather slid into the passenger seat of Adrian's convertible and pulled the seatbelt around her belly. "Don't feel obligated to help me, okay? I don't want anyone's pity-"

"You just want a friend. I get it. I really do. And that's all I'm trying to be." Adrian fired up the ignition and began to back out of the parking space. "So can I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"Have you decided what kind of adoption you're going for?"

Heather placed her hand on her stomach. "I've been thinking about that a lot," she whispered. "I'm thinking closed."

"Really?"

Heather turned her head to stare out the passenger window. "Yeah. As much as I'd like to have her in my life and still know that she's being well cared for, I just don't know if I could stand watching her call someone else 'Mommy.' I know it probably sounds incredibly selfish, but…I just can't do that. I'm not strong enough."

"You're stronger than you think. I don't think I could experience a life growing inside me for nine months and then just hand her off to strangers…even if I was in your situation. How's that for selfish?"

Heather patted her stomach again. "Maybe if she stays with someone in the area, our girls will end up going to school together some day and not even know it?"

Adrian smiled. "I hope so."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Now you should leave this on at least twenty-four hours to let the chemicals settle and let it get cold, then let food out of it for another twelve hours," Oliver explained as he plugged in the refrigerator.

"What about the old one?"

"We'll drop it off at a recycling facility," Chase explained.

"Thank you," Ricky said, shaking their respective hands again.

"Not a problem. Our church loves to help out when we can." Oliver waved to Jack. "See ya Sunday!"

"Tell Marnie I said hi!"

"I will."

Jack watched them wheel the old fridge out of the apartment and then whirled on Ricky. "So it looks like we're just about done here, then. Anything else Duncan and I can help with?"

"I think we're just about done," Ricky said. He looked at Ashley. "Bathroom's finished and the living room and bedroom are as finished as they are going to get without a vacuum."

"I can't believe we forgot that," Ashley grumbled. "We were even talking about it before we left your house."

"I could run home and get mine."

Ricky looked at his watch and shook his head. "It'll take too long. Adrian's supposed to be back with Heather by six."

"I live just ten minutes away," Duncan spoke up helpfully. "We could get the one from my place." He looked between the other three teenagers in the room.

Ashley clasped her hands together. "I think we have time if we hurry."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Can you see who's calling?" Grace asked as she pulled a casserole dish out of the oven.

Amy trotted over to the kitchen table where a paper plate of freshly baked oatmeal raisin cookies were piled and picked up Grace's cell phone. "It's Ricky."

"Can you answer it?" she asked, slipping off her oven mitts.

Amy groaned and pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Amy?"

"Grace is busy, what's going on?"

"We just wanted to let you two know that Jack brought over a used fridge from his church, so we can't put any of the food in the freezer for at least thirty-six hours." Amy covered the mouthpiece and relayed the information to the blonde.

Grace pushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face with the back of her hand. "Maybe that's a good thing since we're kind of behind with the cooking. We can still bring over the cookies though."

"She says that's fine, but she has cookies she wants to bring over."

"Okay, but make sure they're in something where bugs or roaches can't get to them. Ben's still giving you two a ride, right?"

"As far as I know."

"Good, because we're running behind too and we can't make it over there and back in time."

Amy unconsciously bit down on her lip. "Okay, well, I guess we'll see you later then."

"Bye."

Amy heard the click and immediately set down Grace's cell. "He said we need a bug proof container."

"No problem!" Grace chirped. She bent down to the floor and rummaged through a cupboard before triumphantly holding up a plastic container with a lid. "My mom went through a Tupperware phase when I was ten. We have_ loads_ of this stuff!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Man!" Duncan groaned as Ashley liberally sprayed a can of floral scented odor remover throughout the room. "That stuff stinks!"

"This is the third time I've done this," Ashley deadpanned. "You should've smelt it when we first got here. That _reeked_."

"I gotta say, I think we did a pretty bang up job," Duncan commented.

"We?" Ashley folded her arms. "Ricky and I were nearly done when you guys showed up."

"All the same, it looks pretty bitchin', except for the lack of furniture. And that spotty old mattress." He shivered.

"We did what we could," Ricky said.

Jack folded his arms, utterly satisfied. "When are they getting here again?"

A knock thudded at the door and the four teenagers looked at one another. When nobody moved, Ashley grumbled and stomped on over to the door to unlock it, despite Ricky's sudden protest behind her. When she opened it, she found Grace, Amy, and Ben on the other side. _"Finally."_

"Sorry," Ben squeaked. "My fault." He raised his hand. "We had a rush at the end of my shift. I had a lot of people coming in to ask about us catering their Halloween parties."

"Isn't that a little early?"

"We book fast. We also had a group of teachers who wanted us to cater a Columbus Day party at their elementary school, which set us behind schedule, because nobody could agree on anything." He shook his head. "Anyway," he said, holding up a Boykewich Butcher's gift basket, "the important thing is that we're here now." He set the gift basket with various meats and cheeses on the counter.

Grace followed up behind Ben and set down her cookies and a stack of paper plates and plastic silverware beside the basket. "I hope they haven't already eaten, because we decided to bring over the turkey fiesta casserole Amy and I made."

"Count me out," Ashley said as Amy set the casserole dish down.

"Shut up. It's not burnt or anything."

"Shocking!"

"Give it a chance," Jack winked. "Grace is an amazing cook."

"I just helped," Amy replied quietly.

"Amy did a wonderful job," Grace smiled. "It looks just the way it's supposed to and I've made this dish a hundred times."

Ricky's phone suddenly buzzed and he looked down at it. "Heather's on her way up!"

Grace clapped her hands giddily. "This is so exciting! I hope she likes what we did!"

A few minutes later there was the sound of the key in the lock and seven pairs of eyes watched anxiously as the door creaked open and Heather stopped cold at the sight of everyone packed into her living room. "Wh – what's going?" she gasped

"Surprise!" Grace grinned, throwing her arms into the air.

"How did you-"

"I left my purse on the counter accidentally on purpose," Adrian said as she came up behind Heather. "You mad?"

Heather stepped over the threshold and looked around, almost as if in a drug induced haze. "You _cleaned_."

"_Everything,"_ Ashley said.

"The smell's gone." She noticed the refrigerator and pointed mutely.

"Compliments of the church," Jack nodded. "It's not much, but it works."

Heather pressed her hand to her mouth and her eyes began to water up as she stood speechless in the middle of the room.

"Aw, don't cry," Grace said. "Here!" She grabbed one of the paper plates and a plastic knife and cut out a square of casserole, which she walked over to the redhead. "Here, eat! There's more than enough for everyone. And hopefully you like oatmeal raisin cookies, because those are dessert."

Heather sniffed as she took the plate. "Th – thank you," she choked. "I can't – I don't know what to say."

Adrian grinned. "You just did."

Ben clapped his hands. "Let's eat!" He began to cut up and hand out slices of casserole to everyone as they formed a line leading up to the counter, all except for Ricky.

Ricky moved over to Heather. "You okay?"

Heather rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and nodded with tears in her eyes. "Y – yeah. It's uh – oh screw it, I can't even blame it on the hormones. I just can't believe you all did this for me. You don't even know me!"

Ricky shrugged. "Not for long." He nodded at the casserole. "How is it?"

Heather shoved her plastic fork into the food and took a bite. She then closed her eyes, savoring the taste. "Is it too cliché to say that it's melts in your mouth?"

Ricky looked over his shoulder at Grace who was excitedly moving from person to person to ask how they liked it. "Somehow I think Grace will love that."

Heather suddenly looped her arms around Ricky's neck. _"Thank you!"_


	12. Be My, Be My Lady

**A/N: **I've had the worst week, which is why I haven't updated until now.Sorry. (But on the bright side – though not necessarily for me – I feel that there are some good inside jokes in this chapter, if you can spot them.)

_**Turning Tables**_

**Be My, Be My Lady**

"Can you believe her?" Grace asked, ranting as she paced back and forth in front of the changing rooms at the back of a costume shop. "My mother actually agreed to go with him to the party! Who does she think she is, just showing up at Mr. Boykewich's Halloween Ball with Amy's dad! Has she no shame? Now everyone's going to know about them!"

The changing room door opened and Grant popped his head out. "Ready?"

"No I'm not ready," Grace ranted. "I am soooo not ready for the world to know that my mother can't even respect my father enough to wait a year before jumping into bed with her ex!"

"I meant to see my costume."

Grace's face flushed. "Oh. Right. Sorry." She motioned her hand. "Let's see it then!"

Grant stepped out dressed in a skin tight black leotard with a long white strip plastic hanging over his arm connected at his rear end and a large white square covering his groin, with two silver sprockets.

Grace squinted. "What is that?"

Grant grinned and grabbed something from inside the changing room and passed it to his girlfriend. "Try it on!"

Grace stared down at the costume on the hanger: a wall socket. She glowered. "That is not funny."

"Oh, come on!" Grant grinned. "It's a little funny."

"It's gross."

"No, I think it represents our relationship."

"We don't have sex," Grace deadpanned.

"Yeah, but when we have sparks…and I bet there'd be a lot more if we…_connected_."

Grace shoved the costume back into his arms and folded her own. "I'm really not amused right now."

Grant sighed. "Fine. I'll see if I can find something else."

"Something_ appropriate_, please!" Grace began to meander about the racks of costumes. She briefly picked up an elaborate Cinderella costume, partly Disney inspired, only to look at the costume and promptly set it back on the rack. Next, her silver eyes caught the red clearance rack, and she strolled over to it and began to dig around before ultimately pulling out a lavish golden and white dress.

"That has got to be on the wrong rack."

"I was just thinking the same thing," Grace said as she began to turn over the sale tag. To her surprise, it had been marked down to half price. "No way! Look at this!" She held it up to herself and spun around causing the dress to flare out in a circle. "It's a Marie Antoinette costume!" She ruffled up her hair and tried to shove it into a pile on top of her head. "I could pull that off, couldn't I?"

"Maybe that's why nobody's bought it?" Grant wondered aloud.

"Why?"

"Because no romantic couple wants to go as the doomed Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette."

Grace waved her hand dismissively. "I don't care. It's gorgeous and it's in my price range. I'm getting it!" She batted her eyelashes. "Go as Louis with me, pretty please?"

Grant looked down at the costume. "Only if you try it on right here and now first. And _show me_."

Grace batted his arm. "Fine!" She waggled her fingers. "Now go busy yourself finding a complimentary Louis XVI costume while I'm trying this on."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Please don't tell me you're pregnant, I don't think I can handle another one."

"Ha ha, very funny," Ben groaned from his place on the bed. He had a cool cloth pressed to his forehead and a trash bucket tucked by his dresser in case of emergency.

"Is it contagious?" Adrian asked. "Should I be worried?"

"I don't think so," Ben groaned. "Bunny and I both started feeling sick after we went out to dinner with my dad last night and had seafood. We think it's food poisoning, because some other people in the restaurant were sick too and we had all had the same dish."

Adrian slid onto the edge of the bed and placed her hand on Ben's leg. "How long does food poisoning last?"

"I don't know," he groaned miserably.

Adrian looked over at his closet where an Aladdin costume was hanging. "Do you think there's any chance that you might be able to still go to your dad's Halloween party with me?"

Ben wrapped his arms around his belly. "I'm really sorry, Adrian, but I don't have an answer for you at this point. I just – feel _horrible_."

Adrian crawled up onto the bed and rested her head on the pillow next to him. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it comfortingly. "Mercy's downstairs. You want me to bring her up?"

"To see her daddy like this?" Ben shook his head into the well of his pillow. "But thanks for the offer."

Adrian leaned in to kiss his cheek. "You can't miss Mercy's first Halloween."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Oh look, this one's perfect for you Ashley!" Amy taunted as she wormed through the racks to bring her sister the costume. "In fact, you and Wednesday Addams have so much in common I often wonder if you're one-and-the-same."

"If only I was," Ashley responded dryly. "Then I could've dropped explosives on this entire family years ago." She suddenly pulled something out from behind her back. "Speaking of realistic costumes, this made me think of you!" She shoved a Wicked Witch mask at her sister.

Amy made a petulant face. "How _sweet_ of you. Luckily I didn't wait until the last minute to find my costume."

"Yeah, that's because you've been wearing the same costume for five years now!"

Amy slammed down the Wednesday Addams costume on a rack. "It saves money! That of which, we don't have!"

"Newsflash: you're too old to be an American Girl anymore and so are Dumb and Dumber! Grow up!"

"You grow up!"

"Hey! Hey!" Ricky chose that moment to stop watching the arguing sisters from a few racks away and finally step in to settle down the rising feud.

Amy crossed her arms. "Where did you come from?"

"I was shopping; same as you."

"Oh really? You weren't _spying_?"

"If spying means listening to your verbal blows, then I think the store was spying, because _everyone_ could hear you two."

Ashley folded her arms. "Looks like I'm not the only one who waits until the last minute."

"Having things in common with Ricky isn't something you necessarily want to be proud of."

"Why don't you just go meet up Thing One and Thing Two and let Ricky take me home?"

Ricky stepped in between them again. "Are you here with your parents?" he asked, looking at Amy.

"No, we took the bus, not that it's any of your business."

"Are your friends here?"

"They're getting 'manis and pedis,' for their costumes" Ashley said in a high pitched voice to mimic Madison and Lauren. "Amy wanted to go with them but she got stuck with me because we're broke." She looked down at her watch. "They should be done any minute."

"I can key an eye on Ash if you want to go meet up with your friends."

"Ash?" Amy questioned. "Since when did he start calling you 'Ash'?"

"None of your business!"

"Come on!" Ricky glared. "I think you both need some down time."

"I don't care what you think," Amy snapped, "but as long as you're willing to wait with the little demon, then I'm gone!" She turned on her heel and stomped off.

"Sometimes I just wanna smack her!"

"I'm sure she feels the same."

"Whose side are you on?"

"I'm not on anyone's side," Ricky glared. "I'm just being realistic." He looked around, deciding to change the subject. "The mall's pretty picked over," he sighed. "What kind of costume did you have in mind?"

"I figured I'd know it when I saw it."

"Yeah," he groaned. "Me too."

"You don't really seem like the costume type."

"_Touché." _

"I'm only getting one for Mr. Boykewich's party. I usually don't do Halloween at all; I haven't in years."

"His party, huh? You're going for Adrian?"

"Why would you think that?"

Ashley shrugged. "Just a guess."

Without answering he asked, "Why are you going?"

"Because Mr. Boykewich sent over some free meat from the shop a couple times over the past few weeks because he knows – thanks to Ben – how bad off we are right now, so my mom thinks it would be rude to not accept the invitation. I'm not exactly the social type though and definitely not the costume type."

Ricky shrugged and grabbed a_ Scream_ mask off the rack. "You don't even have to show your face," he suggested with a sly laugh. "And bonus: you get to carry a knife."

"Mmm," Ashley murmured. "Don't tempt me. I just might_ use_ it."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Who's that?" Grant craned his neck to look around Grace to see out her passenger window.

The blonde squinted. "It's Amy."

"_The_ Amy? Daughter-of-George-who-slept-with-your-mother Amy?"

"That's the one. What in the world is she doing here? How did she even _get_ here?" she wondered, suddenly looking around and noting that there were no cars around but the one she was sitting in.

"Maybe it has something to do with your parents?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Grace scowled. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned in to give Grant a kiss. "Thanks for going costume shopping with me…again. I'll see you tomorrow! You're picking me up, right?"

"At four-thirty, so be ready!"

Grace hauled her dress over her arm and lugged herself out of the car, not really wanting to force herself to talk to Amy, let alone about their parents. She walked slowly up the walkway as Grant's car drove away and then finally stopped when she reached the step where Amy was sitting. "Amy?"

Amy looked up, stone faced. "Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That my dad and your mom are going to Mr. Boykewich's party."

Grace slid down onto the step beside the brunette. "My mom told me this morning."

"Yeah. My dad just texted me. Can you believe that? I found out by _text!_"

"I'm sorry. For what it's worth, I'm pretty upset about it too."

Amy shrugged. "At least you have a right to be upset. I'm so angry, but I don't even know what to say to him about it. At least when he was seeing Adrian's mom, it was simple: he was cheating on my mom and that gave me all the right in the world to be mad. Now I'm mad and he's single and living at his own place and I'm furious and yet I shouldn't be."

"Do you want to come in?" Grace asked suddenly.

"Is your mom here?"

"No. She and Tom are doing this pre trick-or-treat thing where they hand out Halloween bags to the homeless. They put some candy and free meal coupons in them. It's something I usually do with them every year, but this year I needed a costume and, well…yeah."

"I guess." She turned to push herself up when Grace offered a hand. After a moment of hesitation, she accepted her hand and hauled herself up. "Thanks."

"No problem." Grace unlocked the door and let them in. "Excuse the mess, we've been busy lately-"

"What mess?" Amy laughed. "This isn't a mess. You should see my house!"

"You want something to eat? Drink?" Grace asked as she led Amy into the kitchen. "I made some spiced pumpkin cider the other night and I think we still have some left."

"Actually, that sounds really good." Amy took a seat at the kitchen table and watched as the blonde hunted down the cider in the refrigerator.

"So how did you get here?" Grace asked curiously.

"Jason dropped me off."

"Oh?" She smiled as she poured two glasses of cider and then set them into the microwave. "How is he? We haven't seen much of each other since school started back up, surprisingly."

"He's good." Amy rolled her eyes. "He's been trying to avoid Madison though, she's developed a little crush on him all of the sudden. You'd think she'd see him as a big brother after all these years, but apparently not."

"Oh." Grace leaned against the kitchen counter. "Well, uh," she mumbled awkwardly, "I hope that gets better." She scratched the back of her neck. "Are they all going to the party too?"

Amy nodded. "Madison's going as Poison Ivy this year. She got this whole new 'sexy' costume. She even got her nails painted with ivy vines at the mall." She stared down at the table. "They look really neat," she said, staring at her own unpainted, chipped nails.

The microwave began to beep and Grace promptly removed the drinks and set them down at the table. "What're you going as?"

Amy shrugged. "Felicity Merriman."

"_American Girls_? Oh! I used to love that series when I was a kid. It's what got me into reading, actually. I went through the entire series in a matter of weeks!"

"Yeah, me too. Madison, Lauren, and I used to have reading parties together when we were kids and that's how we got to idea to start going as Emily, Addy, and Felicity." Amy sipped on the pumpkin cider and her eyes widen. "Mmm! Grace, this is delicious! You made this?"

"It's my dad's old family recipe," she nodded proudly.

Amy held up her glass. "Compliments to the chef."

Grace tilted her head. "Why thank you. I also made a pumpkin pie from my pumpkin carvings, if you're hungry."

"I think I'm good, but thanks."

Grace tapped her fingers lightly against the table, studying the brunette over the rim of her glass. "Hey, uh…" She shrugged. "You wouldn't want to hang around for a few hours, would you?"

Amy blinked in surprise. "For what?"

"I was just thinking…maybe we could help each other get ready for the party tomorrow. You know, do each other's nails and whatnot? Maybe decide on some hairstyles?" At Amy's contemplative look, she cautiously, added, "Maybe we could even come up with a neat new costume for you this year? _If_ you wanted, that is."

"Like what?" Amy hedged. "I don't have any-"

"We could raid my closet," Grace suggested quickly. "I have a lot of costume pieces. You have no idea how many plays I've done for the church over the years and then add that to all my Halloween costumes!" She motioned her hand up and down. "And I think you and I are about the same size. Not that I'm trying to coerce you or – or that there's anything wrong with the costume you already have picked out. I just thought that since you said you weren't doing your usual costumes with Madison and Lauren this year-"

"Yes."

"But I'm probably rambling-" She stopped suddenly. "Wait, did you just say 'yes'?"

"Yes. Yes, I'd like that."

Grace beamed. "Perfect!" She stood up, pumpkin cider still in hand, and excitedly grabbed her costume from the back of one of the empty kitchen chairs. "My room's this way."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian leaned against the entry way into the family room, watching Leo as he moved slowly around the room with Mercy in his arms, pointing the Halloween decorations to her one by one. His gentle movements and soft voice reminded her of the way Ben was with their daughter.

"And your Grandma Sarah made this one with your daddy when he was just a little boy," Leo explained, picking up glass baby food jar which had been filled with clear liquid, orange and black glitter, and had a ghost figurine glued to the inside of the lid so that it made a Halloween themed snow globe. He shook it up and the glitter swirled around the ghost and Mercy shrieked with delight.

"Maybe one day Ben can make one with her?"

Leo spun around, startled, almost dropping the decoration but balancing it just in time. "Adrian! I'm sorry, I didn't know you were down here."

"Yeah, Ben's asleep and I got a little hungry." She meandered over to them and looked down at the glitter globe. "It's pretty."

"Sarah was always a very creative woman. She did things like this every holiday, always coming up with new ways to spend time with him."

Adrian stroked the side of her daughter's face. "I wish Mercy could've met her."

Leo shook the globe again and stared at the ghost. "I like to think she's watching over her right now." He kissed his granddaughter's head as he set the globe back onto the mantle. "They would have had so much fun together." He shuffled over to his favorite leather chair and grunted as he lowered himself into it and set Mercy on his knee, bouncing her slightly. "Are you spending the night?" he asked suddenly.

"I was thinking about it," Adrian admitted sheepishly. "If that's okay with you, of course."

"You're always welcome here, Adrian, you know that." He kissed the top of Mercy's head again.

Adrian nodded. "I'm gonna head back up there. Let me know when you're ready to her down and I'll take care of it."

Leo shook his head. "I can put her down, if you don't mind. I, uh, I'd just like to spend a little more time with her tonight, that's all."

Adrian nodded understandingly. "Of course." She moved over to her daughter and bent down to kiss Mercy on the nose. "Goodnight." She stood and nodded again. "Goodnight, Mr. Boykewich."

"Goodnight, Adrian."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Hurry up, I wanna see!" Grace chirped, almost pressing her entire body to the bathroom door in anticipation.

The door creaked open and Amy poked only her face out. "I think my dad would have a heart attack if he saw me in this."

A mischievous grin grew on Grace's lips. "All the better!" She motioned her hand impatiently. "Come on, come on, the suspense is killing me!"

Amy pulled the door all the way open and struck an unsure pose. "What do you think?"

Grace looked the brunette up and down, taking in the short, bushy pink skirt and lacy bodice that that curved around Amy in all the places that she didn't normally show off. She clapped her hands together in approval. "How does it feel?"

"It fits." Amy turned to the mirror and couldn't help but look down at her chest. "Apparently I have things I didn't even know I had."

"I just knew my old prima ballerina costume would come in handy again!" The blonde suddenly turned and bent down to grab a plastic bag that was sitting on the floor just outside the door, out of Amy's line of sight. "And I found the wings and the antennas," she said, stepping into the bathroom and unloading said objects onto the counter. "I wore these when I was Tinkerbelle a few years ago," she said, handing a pair of ornate golden glitter fairy wings to Amy. "And these," she explained, picking up a head band with wiggly wire antennas topped with dark pink glitter hearts, "were from a Valentine's Day party at my church last year."

Amy slid her arms into the loops on the wings and once comfortable she shrugged her shoulders and the wings fluttered gracefully on her back. Smiling, she then took the antenna headband and adjusted it on her head. Each time she moved the antenna hearts would bop forwards and back.

"What do you think?"

"I think it could work," Amy agreed. "But…I don't have any shoes."

Grace waved her hand dismissively. "Let's go see what we can find!"

Amy trotted out behind Grace as the latter head her back to her bedroom. "Grace?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Letting me spend the night. And helping me find a new costume."

Grace shook her head. "This has been way more fun than I ever could have thought," she said sincerely. Then she leaned in conspiratorially. "And just between you and me: I got a great deal of pleasure out of the look on my mother's face when she came home and found you here."

Amy covered her mouth. "That was pretty good."

Grace shrugged. "She never saw it coming!"

"Now if only we could find a way to freak my dad out the same way."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "Well, they _are_ going to the party together tonight. You said it yourself: just wait 'til he sees your costume!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian awoke to the warm fingers of sunlight caressing her bare skin. She yawned and stetched out, reaching across the bed to touch Ben, only for her hand to fall into the empty well his sleeping form had left. Her eyes opened immediately and she sat up, her eyes taking a moment to adjust from being closed all night. She took a quick sweep of the room and didn't see any sign of him. "Ben?"

A barely audible groan caught her attention and she quickly turned her attention in its direction, realizing she'd missed the bathroom the first time. At first she saw nothing, but then as she tilted her head down, she saw a bunched over form on the floor and her heart skipped. "Ben!" The Latina shot out of bed and was beside her boyfriend on the floor in no time. "Ben? Are you okay?" she asked urgently, cupping his chin in her hand as she spoke.

Ben suddenly let his weight fall into her chest and he groaned loudly. "I'm – I'm fine."

"You don't look fine! What happened?"

"I needed to – uh – use the bathroom," he mumbled into her stands of obsidian hair. His next words came out unintelligible and then he moved his face again and said, "Don't you have stand up sometimes and start to move and then – and then suddenly feel all dizzy and see black spots?"

Adrian curled her arms around his shoulders and stayed with him on the cold tile floor. She rested her chin atop his head and sighed. "You're definitely not well enough to go to the party with me," she sighed disappointedly.

"I'm sorry, Adrian." Ben weakly lifted his hand to rest on her arm. "I'm sorry I'm letting you and Mercy down."

"You can't help that you got some bad fish," she sighed. "Do you want me to skip the party tonight and stay with you instead?"

Ben grunted and shook his head. "You can't do that. It's Mercy's first Halloween. You have to make it the best you can for her."

"She won't even remember it."

"Don't do that. You know as well as I do how important this is. She may not remember it, but we will, and so will my dad and your mom. You can make it good for me by making it good for them, okay?" Ben tilted his head to look up at her from upside down. "And make sure you put my video camera to good use, so I can see everything later."

Adrian nodded. "I promise."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Trick-or-treat!" Grace singsonged before the front door to the Boykewich mansion was even completely open. She pressed a gloved hand to her mouth in surprise. "What a fantastic costume, Mr. Boykewich!"

Leo laughed jovially and stepped aside, waving Grace, Grant, and Amy inside from the cold autumn air. "This old thing?" he laughed, looking down at his pinstriped Al Capone suit. "I've had this for years," he said, patting his stomach. "I think it pales in comparison to your costume. It's lovely, Grace."

Grace lifted her skirt and curtsied in response to the compliment. "Thank you!"

Leo looked to Amy and nodded. "And I'm glad you decided to come. It's good to see you here again. I've been a little disappointed that all your and Ben's study dates have been at your house. You're company's been missed."

Amy's cheeks darkened. "I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Boykewich." She nervously fiddled with the edges of her tutu. "It's good to see you too."

Leo then held his hand out to Grant. "And you are, young man?"

A rush of heat flew to Grace's face. "Oh, I apologize, how rude of me! Mr. Boykewich, this is my boyfriend, Gant Volberg. Grant, this is Ben's father, Leo Boykewich."

Grant shook Leo's hand firmly. "Nice to meet you, Sir. Thank you for letting me come tonight."

Leo shook his head. "The pleasure's all mine. Grace has become very important to my family over the last year and any friend of hers is welcome here. Thank_ you_ for coming!" He motioned into the family room. "We've got things going on everywhere tonight: games, crafts, scary stories, and we've even set up a haunted house in the backyard for the kids if you want to check it out. It's not_ too_ scary. Unfortunately Ben's upstairs sick, though, so you won't be seeing him around."

Grace nodded sadly. "Adrian texted me about that. I hope he'll be feeling better by Monday. Do you think it would be all right to pop in after the party, if he's still up?"

"Of course. I'm sure he'd love to see you." A ghoulish groan passed through the house and Leo smiled. "Doorbell," he explained. "I'll catch up with you later, hopefully." To Amy he added, "Is Ashley coming, by the way?"

Amy shrugged, barely holding back a scowl. "I'm really not sure, I'm sorry."

"Well if I see her, I'll let her know I saw you."

"Great," she muttered under her breath, but smiled anyway and quickly departed behind Grace and Grant.

Across the crowd, Adrian was busy videotaping Mercy, who was sitting in a sectioned off play area that had been set up for the guests' babies and toddlers. "Mercy, smile at the camera!" she urged, shuffling backwards to try and get a clear shot of her daughter's face on the LCD screen.

"Oh, Adrian, she's adorable!"

Adrian suddenly swung the camera around and found Grace's face in her view finder instead. "Hey, I was wondering when you were going to get here."

Grace cheerfully waved to the camera. "Hi, Ben!" Then she made a beeline for Mercy and bent down with her skirt billowing up around her as she attempted to get as close to eye level with the baby as possible from behind the playpen barrier. "Oh, Adrian, she's so adorable!" Grace gushed again. She reached a hand out to touch the downy orange and black fabric that made up the hood of Mercy's tiger costume. "You dressed her up as Rajah!"

"_Rani_, actually," Adrian corrected, turning off the camera. "_Rajah_ means 'king,' but_ rani_ is 'queen.'"

Grace tapped the little girl's button nose. "If only Ben hadn't been sick. The three of you would've been so adorable together," she said, finally pushing herself back up and admiring Adrian's elaborate Princess Jasmine costume. "Aren't you cold though?" she asked, shuddering at the combination of flimsy, translucent aquamarine fabric and the sheer mass of skin Adrian was showing off.

"Aren't you sweltering?" Adrian shot back, motioning to the heavy, swishing, floor-length gown Grace was touting around in.

Grace reached daintily into the purse on her wrist and retrieved a fan which she flipped open and began to motion by her neck. "That's what this is for."

Adrian smirked. "Well if you want repetitive motion injuries, then by all means keep doing what you're doing." She looked around and it dawned on her that it was just the two of them. "By the way – and I hope I'm not jinxing myself here – but did you finally get surgery?"

"Surgery?"

"You know, for your little joined-at-the-hip problem?"

Grace glowered. "Grant's getting us some refreshments with Amy, if you _must_ know. Really, Adrian, I don't understand why you dislike him so much."

"I don't dislike him, I just dislike that he hogs all of your time. You're my best friend, Grace. I miss us hanging out."

"You're my best friend too, Adrian, but we've both got a lot going on this year." She shrugged sympathetically. "You with Mercy and Ben and me with Grant. It's not all me."

"No," Adrian replied tartly, as she spotted Grant coming their way, "it's not you."

"I couldn't decide what you'd want, so I got you a bit of everything," Grant said, handing Grace a piled plate of deserts.

"Thanks!" Grace supplied him with a kiss on the cheek in return and eagerly picked up a bat shaped cookie with black sprinkles to nibble on.

Adrian looked at Amy, who was standing off to Grant's side. She nodded faintly. "Nice costume."

"Isn't she cute?" Grace nodded eagerly. "We came up with it together."

"I'm a Love Bug," Amy supplied helpfully, pointing to the heart antennas on her head. "It was mostly Grace's idea."

"Mhmm," Adrian nodded. "It has 'Grace' written all over it."

"Hey," Grace interrupted, "we were thinking of checking out the kids' haunted house out back, you wanna come with?"

Adrian gave a long look at Grace, then looked between Grant and Amy and back to the blonde. She shook her head slowly and held up Ben's video camera. "Thanks, but no thanks, I need to keep working on this for Ben."

Grace squinted her eyes a bit as if she didn't fully trust what her friend was saying, but ultimately nodded in acceptance. "Well, text me if you change your mind." She looped her arm into Grant's. "Are you two good to go?"

Amy nodded and quickly pressed a plastic cup with blood colored liquid to her mouth and waited for Grant to answer. When he had, she finally finished her elongated drink and nodded to Adrian. "Tell Ben I said hi."

"Sure." Adrian scuffed the sole of her golden ballet flat as she watched the three disappear into the costumed crowd and then looked to her daughter, who was blissfully sucking on her thumb. She turned on the camcorder again and resumed filming the party.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"A pregnant nun," Ashley said as she walked up the front steps beside Ricky. "I like your sense of humor."

"I'm starting to regret it," Heather confessed. She rubbed her bulging belly. "It's hot as sin in this thing, no wonder nuns are so bitchy all the time."

"That and they don't get to have sex their entire lives," Ricky smirked.

"Yeah, well, sex gets you into trouble, so maybe that's not such a bad thing." Heather looked over at Ashley. "I'm envious that I didn't think of your costume."

Ricky grabbed and held the front door as a couple dressed as Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy walked out. "She's more creative than she lets on."

"But the scythe earrings were Ricky's idea."

"They were in a clearance cart," Ricky said as he trailed into the mansion behind the two girls.

"They're admittedly a little cliché, but-"

"I like them," Heather interrupted. "They're only studs, so someone will only notice if they're really paying attention."

Ashley let a faint smile play on her lips. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Suddenly Heather's stomach gave an audible growl beneath the layers of course black fabric and her cheeks flushed as Ricky and Ashley simultaneously looked at her. "Sorry. I just smelt food. Smells like pumpkin pie, maybe?" On cue, her stomach growled again, this time sounding like a ghost from a bad horror movie. "I've literally been devouring everything in sight the last couple weeks." She looked around hopelessly. "I think I need to find the desert table before someone thinks I'm carrying around a sound machine under here," she said, swishing her black robes. "Do you guys want anything?"

"I ate before I left," Ricky replied.

"I'm not one for buffets and help yourself parties," Ashley remarked. "But we can wait here if you want to go check out the food table."

"You sure? I could catch up with you later if you want to mingle."

"I'm not a mingler."

Ricky nodded in agreement.

"Okay, great. Thanks!" Heather bounded off in the direction of the refreshments, as fast as her heavy nun outfit and pregnant belly would let her.

Ashley swayed back and forth on her black heels. "Let me know if you see my dad and Wife Number One. I'm trying to avoid them."

Ricky nodded, but his eyes were busy searching the crowd for someone else; someone with long raven hair and olive skin. Instead, he spotted Amy among the crowd. She was carving her way out of the sea of guests, who were beginning to rock out to the sound of Bobby Pickett's "Monster Mash."

Ashley covered her mouth and quickly ribbed Ricky before pointing out her sister. "Wow and here Mom and Dad have always thought of you as the perfect one, yet you're clearly either drunk or stoned out of your mind. Seriously, what _are_ you wearing?"

Amy's face bloomed with equal parts anger and embarrassment. "I'm a Love Bug!" she barked contemptuously. "Which is far better than what you're wearing! Who goes as themselves to a costume party anyway?" She turned her eyes to Ricky, who also didn't appear to be wearing any sort of costume.

"I'm Death," Ashley replied simply.

"Death?" Amy repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, Death."

Sensing the mounting frustration, Ricky chose that moment to intervene, yet again. "She's making a point: she didn't want to dress up as the Grim Reaper because that's recognizable and-"

"Death is normal and you usually don't see it coming."

Amy stood there with her mouth slightly ajar for a few moments before finally uttering, "Oh." She looked at Ricky again. "Are you both supposed to be Death then?"

Ricky smiled. "No, I'm just one of those people who go to costume parties as myself," he replied, causing Ashley to muffle a chuckle beside him and Amy to glare. "Anyway, where's Grace? She said she was coming with you and Grant."

"Dance floor," Amy said, pointing to the gyrating crowd.

"Too bad Jimmy isn't here," Ashley taunted.

"You don't have a date either," Amy countered. "At least I have a boyfriend."

Ashley shrugged. "At least I don't _need _a boyfriend."

"I don't need a boyfriend-"

"Hey, hey," Ricky said again, physically getting between the siblings. "Can you two please put your sibling rivalry aside for just a few hours, please?"

Ashley shrugged. "Fine by me."

Amy huffed and said nothing. Instead, she scooted over to stand beside a chair where a prop skeleton had been positioned. She quietly pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and began to punch the keys with her thumbs.

Ashley leaned into Ricky and whispered. "She's probably texting Jimmy now."

Ricky looked at Amy and felt a pang of empathy. "She probably misses him."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "I don't think she should've gotten involved with him in the first place. He's my mom's ex's son, which should've told her something in the first place, and besides, it's long distance. How many long distance relationships last anyway?"

"You can't judge a child by their parent, you should know that, and as far as the long distance thing goes, I wouldn't know. They aren't impossible though."

"Just improbable."

The "Monster Mash" faded out and the familiar beats of "Somebody's Watching Me" began to electrify the air. Soon a high piled head of blonde hair came bobbing through the crowd and Grace emerged, happily waving across the room to Ashley and Ricky. "Hey, you finally made it!"

"You look good," Ricky said, looking Grace up and down in approval.

Grace grinned and curtsied. "Why thank you!"

"How much did that set you back?"

"Oh, it wasn't too bad. The clerk said they'd had this one leftover from last year, so it was on clearance. Great find, huh?"

Ricky nodded. "It must be karma rewarding you for all the good you do."

Grace giggled. "But why aren't you dressed up?"

Ricky shrugged. "I don't like costumes." He suddenly raised his eyebrow. "Where's your boyfriend, by the way?"

"Oh, Grant had to use the restroom." She tapped her chin. "Actually, have you even met Grant yet? I know I've introduced him to Adrian and Ben, but I don't think-"

Ricky shook his head. "Nope."

"I'll just have to correct that then, won't I?" Grace looked over her shoulder, but saw no sign of her boyfriend. "In the meantime, do you want to dance?" She looked to Ashley. "Do you mind if I steal him away?"

Ashley let her shoulders rise and fall. "He's not my property."

At the same time Ricky said, "We're not together, I just gave her a ride. Heather, too, but she's off at the refreshments."

Grace nodded. "Well, if you've got nothing better to do then…" She held out her gloved hand like a courtesan.

Ricky finally took Grace's hand. "Okay, but just one dance."

"Yay!" Grace cheered with her typical Grace-like over enthusiasm.

On the other side of the dance floor, Adrian was filming the dancing. Right then, her camera was lingering on Leo and Camille, the latter of whom was dressed as a very convincing twenties' flapper. Finally she panned the camcorder across the crowd and caught Grant on her LCD screen. She noticed that his eyes seemed to be fixed on something and she lifted her head in curiosity, attempting to follow his line of vision, but the crowd was too jam packed to figure out what he was looking at. When she looked back to her LCD screen, she saw his face flush red and suddenly he crushed the plastic cup full of punch that he was holding until the red punch oozed out over the edges and then cast down the crumpled container onto the dance floor.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The sound of a squawking raven poured through the room and Adrian tilted her head back to look up at the clock on the wall which was styled to look like the one in _The Munsters_ television show. She was standing off to the side of the dance floor with Ben's camera in hand, reviewing footage she'd shot earlier that evening. There was a moment playing on the LCD screen where she'd recorded Jack bobbing for apples, yet she'd unwittingly recorded a fight between George and Amy in the background, having an argument over her costume. The fight had occurred just before George had announced he was taking Amy and Ashley back home and Amy had stormed out in near tears. That, however, Adrian had not caught on camera. The Latina pressed her thumb to a double arrow pointing right and began to fast forward when a hand suddenly covered the screen and she looked up in surprise.

"You've been on the outside looking in all night."

Adrian pulled the camera back and shut the LCD screen. "I told Ben I'd-"

"Yeah, you've been telling everyone that all night," Ricky cut in. "I'm pretty sure you've covered every inch of the party by now. Two times over. Come on, Adrian. Why not put down the camera and enjoy yourself a little?"

"While Ben is upstairs sick?"

"That's not your fault."

Ricky edged the camera out of her hands and set it down on a chair. He then held out his hand. "Come dance with me."

"Ricky-"

"Come on."

"I really don't want to. And it's not you, either. I don't want to dance at all."

"Not wanting to dance didn't stop me from having to dance with Grace and Heather," he countered playfully. "Come on."

"Ricky, I _really_ don't want to," she said in a tone of defeat.

Ricky nodded and rested himself against the wall. "I guess I'll just hang out and do nothing over here with you then, if that's okay." He looked to the dance floor where Heather and Grace were laughing and imitating dance moves from Michael Jackson's "Thriller" music video to the song of the same name. "I like your costume."

"_Gracias,"_ she said unconsciously. After a beat, she twisted her head back to look at Ricky. "Why didn't you dress up?"

Ricky shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't have anything I wanted to be."

"Everyone wants to be something."

"I used to, when I was a kid. Every Halloween I would spend it pretending I was someone else's kid; I spent it trying to be anyone but Bob Underwood's son."

Adrian let the palm of her hand fall to the back of Ricky's. "I'm sorry."

"Don't do that," he whispered, shaking his head. "Don't pity me. You know I hate that."

"I know." Adrian gently took her hand away. "My grandparents didn't let me celebrate Halloween when I was little and my mom was usually working. I remember I used to watch all the kids in costumes from my bedroom window and I envied them so much. I would've given anything to be one of them and I hated my mom for making me stay with her parents." She tinkered with the flowy aqua fabric on the pant leg of her costume. "My first Halloween was after I'd met Antonio; his mother took us out."

"Antonio?"

Adrian smiled lightly. "Yeah. He was my best friend and…"

"And what?"

Adrian shook her head. "Nothing. Just – just my best friend."

"You've never mentioned him before. Did you have a falling out?"

"N-" she whispered, her voice catching at the back of her throat. "No. He, uh, he…he got cancer. The summer before freshman year."

"I'm sorry." Ricky lifted his hand, then stopped himself. "I-"

"But that's in the past," Adrian said quickly, discreetly wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"The past always matters, it makes us who we are."

Adrian laughed bitterly. "Don't try to be all philosophical now, Ricky, it doesn't suit you."

"What does suit me?"

Adrian didn't say anything.

"I lied."

"What?"

"When I said I didn't have anything I wanted to be. I know what I want to be."

"What?" she asked again.

Ricky placed his palm out again. "I want to be Ben. Just for tonight, let me be him."

Adrian stared at his hand for what felt like a thousand years and then, with a burdensome sigh, she rested her hand into his and let him lead her into the middle of the dance floor, where only a handful of people scattered out around them. Nina Simone's rendition of "I Put A Spell On You" was just beginning to play as Adrian lifted her hands to loop around the back of Ricky's neck while he rested his hands on her waist. She swayed back and forth to the hum of the song, feeling as though she were barely moving at all.

"Do you ever think about how it could have gone?" he asked.

Adrian let her head rest again his chest. "All the time."

"And?"

"And…it didn't. Even if I could do it all over again, I'd never give up Mercy for anything."

"I'd never want you to. I just…I miss Us. I always thought it was just me on the outside, then one day I found that you were too, and suddenly we were on the outside together. And now it's just me again."

"We're a family, Ricky: me, Ben, and Mercy. No matter how unconventional, we're still a family. And I care about Ben. _A lot._ I don't know exactly how much yet, but I owe it to him and our daughter to find out. For what it's worth, I care about you too, but…"

"I know."

"I'm-"

Ricky pressed his finger to her lips. "Don't. Just dance." He soaked in the warmth of her skin through his fingertips as he listened to the thrumming of the guitar strings, each vibrating hum reminding him that he was one vibration closer to the end. He closed his eyes and held fast to Adrian until the last words of the song were sung and the music gave way to silence. He didn't open them until he felt Adrian's arms disentangle themselves from him and he watched her walk away without a word. In a whisper he knew she'd never hear he confessed, "I love you, Adrian."


	13. You Know What You've Got

**A/N: **Hey **Radfan**, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter! BMBMB is the episode all of us worship, so I couldn't just ignore that. ;) But I'm glad you liked the spin on it. (I felt so strange writing a Halloween chapter in the middle of April. lol)

_**Turning Tables**_

**You Know What You've Got**

"Hey, look who's here: _me_."

Ricky closed his locker and looked pointedly at Grant. "You're going to school here now?" he asked sarcastically.

"Not now, but _soon_. At least by next fall, unless I can transfer after midterms."

"What's wrong with your fancy private school?" Ricky questioned, looking suspiciously from Grant to Griffin who was standing uncomfortably beside his cousin.

"Nothing," Grant glared. "I just want to be closer to Grace, that's all."

"To keep an eye on her? Grace isn't that kind of girl, she doesn't need you," then he looked to Griffin, "or anyone else, 'keeping an eye on her.'"

"She's a good girl," Grant agreed. "That's why I love her." He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "It's everyone else that I don't trust."

"Like me?" Ricky scowled. "Like we told you the other night: it was just a dance. There's nothing between Grace and I." 

"There used to be."

"No, there didn't. We only went on a couple of dates last year and that was because I was a different person back then and she didn't realize that. But that's over. In fact, it was never real to begin with."

"All the same," Grant said dismissively, "I'd still like to be closer to _my_ girlfriend."

"She's not yours. Grace isn't anyone's, she's her own person, and you ought to know that by now." Ricky shoved his drumsticks into his back pockets and started to walk off down the hall, but kept his pace slow, so he could hear in case Grant said anything else.

"_Ouch,"_ Griffin mumbled.

"I told you he has a thing for her," Grant huffed.

"No he doesn't. And even if he does, she doesn't have a thing for him. And you know what? You're the one she has a thing for and if you can't see that, you're as blind as a bat. Transferring here would be a big mistake! It makes it seem like you don't trust her. And you _do_ trust her, _right?_"

Ricky snorted as he rounded the corner and spotted Adrian at her locker. He waltzed over to her. "Can you believe that guy?"

"What guy?" the Latina asked without turning around.

"Grace's boyfriend. He's on some kick because he saw Grace and I dancing at the party."

Adrian pulled her head out of her locker. "_That's_ what happened?"

"You knew?"

"Well I saw him throwing a temper tantrum at the party, but I couldn't figure out why. It certainly makes sense now. But seriously, you and Grace?"

Ricky shrugged. "As I recall, you threw a few temper tantrums about us way back when too."

"Yeah, but that was back when you were still going after anything with a vagina and Grace was single. She's with Grant now – despite my thoughts on the matter – and she'd never be unfaithful. That's just not in her nature."

"Well Clingy doesn't seem to think so. He's actually talking about transferring here."

"What?"

Ricky nodded emphatically. "Yeah, he and his cousin just made a point to tell me about it."

"He's here? On campus?"

"Yeah, scoping out a spot to piss on his new territory I guess."

Adrian shook her head and slammed her locker. _"Pendejo."_

"What?"

Adrian shook her head. "Never mind." She pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead. "This is just great. The most time I spend with Grace anymore is at school, now I won't even have that! Does Grace know he's here yet?"

"Not from the sound of it."

"_Good._ I'd like to put off the welcome wagon as long as possible." She turned on her spiked heel and blew off down the hallway.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Hey, uh, Adrian, could I talk to you for a few minutes…privately?"

It was finally lunchtime and Adrian was seated at one of the outdoor tables with Ben. She'd barely had a chance to start munching on her apple when Heather had approached them. She looked to Ben and then nodded quickly to Heather as her boyfriend scooted off the bench.

"I'll be over there," he said, pointing towards the table Alice and Henry were seated at. He grabbed his lunch box, pecked Adrian on the lips, and went to take his new seat.

Meanwhile, Heather hesitantly sat down across from Adrian and nervously pulled out one of the Tupperware containers Grace had given her, filled with spaghetti and homemade meatballs. She stabbed at the meatballs with a plastic McDonald's fork.

"What's up?" Adrian asked softly.

"I have some meetings lined up with a few prospective adoptive couples this afternoon. Mrs. Shakur helped me find them."

Adrian nodded understandingly. "That's good. I mean, all things considered."

Heather nodded. "Yeah, but I'm really nervous about it. I feel like a firework is exploding inside of me right now. I was wondering if you could help me?"

"Me?" Adrian questioned uncertainly. "How? I mean, I never considered the adoption process, neither did my mom, so I'm not really sure what I can do. You – you don't want me to come with you, do you?"

Heather shook her head. "No, that might be too awkward. Besides, it's advisable that you inform the other party if you're going to bring someone not directly related to the adoption process…at least that's what the pamphlets say."

"Then what can I do?"

"I was wondering if you could help me think of some questions to ask them. I have no clue where to start! What do you say in those types of situations: 'Hey, I hear you want my baby. How much money do you have?' I'm at a complete loss!"

"Well, not to sound too materialistic, but maybe you should ask them about their financial situation? Not necessarily exactly like that, but maybe about their jobs, how they plan to balance work and child rearing, etc… They're valid queries. You're choosing adoption because you want the best for your daughter and if they can't financially or emotionally support her, then they probably aren't the people you want raising her." She shook her head. "I know I probably sound like a hypocrite, since I was in no financial position to raise my daughter – at least not before I found out Ben was the father and his father graciously stepped in to support us – but still."

Heather chewed her spaghetti slowly, taking in everything the Latina had to say. She swallowed finally. "Those are good points."

"Maybe you could ask about other children too? Such as: do they have any, have they ever had any, biological or adoptive, ages? And why are they looking to adopt?"

Heather pulled her purse down from her shoulder and dug around inside for a pen. She began to jot down the questions Adrian was coming up with on the palm of her hand. "Why didn't I think of any of this?"

Adrian laughed. "Probably because you're nervous." She set her apple down on her tray. "Also, you might want to copy those down onto actual paper when you get home and wash all that ink off your hand. First impressions, you know?"

Heather proceeded to make an inky note about that too, on her pinky finger. "Thanks."

"Um…" Adrian tapped the ruby skin of her apple with her manicured nail. "You might also want to find out about how open they are to visitation."

Heather shook her head. "I already told you, I'm not interested in an open adoption."

The Latina shook her head. "That's not what I mean."

Heather pushed a strand of red hair behind her ear. "I'm not following."

"Look, coming from someone who has never known her father, all I'm saying is that if one day far, far in the future when your daughter learns she's adopted and wonders who her birth mother is, you might consider seeing if they're open to telling her. That is, if you're willing to let her know that information."

Heather touched her stomach contemplatively. "I'll think about that," she nodded. "That hadn't crossed my mind before, but I guess I can see where you're coming from. But what if that situation did come to pass and she were to meet me and ask about her father too?"

Adrian smiled. "She'll already have a father."

"Okay, my sperm donor then," Heather laughed.

"Well, that's up to you. But you have a long time to think about that. You don't, however, have much time to find a good set of parents."

"Yeah." Heather rubbed her belly again. She pressed the Tupperware lid back onto its container and dropped it into her brown paper lunch bag. "Thanks, Adrian. I appreciate your advice."

"Any time."

"I'll go let Ben know he can come back now." She started to get up.

"You _can_ sit with us you know."

"Thanks, but I think I'm going to go recopy these notes," she smiled, holding up her blue scribbled hand.

"Let me know what happens!" Adrian called after her.

"I will!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Hey, honey, what are you working on?"

Grace went rigid in her chair. She had been busily typing on her laptop at the kitchen table when she heard the sound of her mother's voice, but hadn't heard the door nor her footsteps approaching. She looked up and forced a smile. "Nothing!" She shook her head quickly. "Just a thing. For school, I mean. Just a thing for school. Some research, that's all."

Kathleen studied her daughter for a moment, then nodded acceptingly. "That's good. I'm grateful that I've got a daughter who puts her school work first." She smiled as she made her way to the refrigerator and began to rifle through it. "Are you hungry?"

Grace discreetly shut her laptop. "Nope." She turned in her seat and stared at her mother. "I wasn't expecting you home so early."

Kathleen pulled a Tupperware container full of broccoli and cauliflower chunks out of the fridge and pried off the lid. "Reverend Stone was feeling under the weather, so everyone decided to go home early." She set the Tupperware container in the microwave and turned it on. "Is everything alright? You're acting a bit…strange."

Grace shook her head. "I'm fine." She crossed her legs and set her hands neatly in her lap.

Kathleen sighed heavily, to the point where Grace wondered if there would be any air left in her lungs. "Are you still upset with me about George?"

Grace closed her eyes. "I – I don't want to talk about it."

"He's not a bad man, Grace."

"Then why did you divorce him in the first place?"

Kathleen pressed the back of her hand to her mouth in thought, then sighed again and moved across the kitchen to sit down at the kitchen table beside her daughter. "George and I got married when we were very young, you know that."

"Yes."

"And at the time, I wanted to marry him primarily so I could have sex with him." She looked down at her lap shamefully. "I've told you how strict – how religious – your grandmother is…and at the time, I saw George as a loophole."

"But he didn't know that?"

"No. He lo – _cared_ about me far more than I did about him."

"And that's why you got divorced?"

"No. We got divorced because – because I made a mistake."

Grace blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…I cheated on him."

Grace shrank back from her mother. _"What?"_

"I guess, for me, it started with the sock…" Kathleen trailed off for a minute, her eyes glazing over like Krispy Kreme doughnuts. "…and then one day I just did it. It wasn't even with someone I really cared about, but – but I did it and I got away with it, so I did it again…and again. Then one time, George caught us and the moment I saw the look on his face, I knew it was over."

"But-"

"George never told anyone, Grace. That's why you never see my parents; why they never come to visit, why they never came to your father's funeral. I told you there was a family rift and that's why. They – at least, my mother – doesn't believe in divorce and she hated me for that and then it only got worse when I remarried your father."

Grace opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish. "But _he_ cheated," she breathed. "On Amy's mother. How could he have done that if he was so hurt by you doing the same thing to him?"

"I don't know, Grace. Sometimes we become the very things we loathe. I know what I did was wrong and I know what he did was wrong, but none of us are perfect. Sometimes some of us make bigger mistakes than others, but that doesn't mean we're all bad people. George isn't a bad person, he's just made some bad decisions."

"But you said you never loved him to begin with. How can you have feelings for him now?"

"I've always cared for George. We may not have been in love the way a husband and a wife should have been, but I've always cared for him and he's always been good to me. I don't know…things just feel different now. We've both changed so much since those days and – and I know you think it's too soon, but he makes me feel good. I've felt so _bad_ since your father's been gone and being George, doing things with him, makes me feel not quite so bad. Does that make sense?"

Grace looked at her laptop and then back at her mother and nodded slowly. "Yeah," she murmured. "Yeah…that's the way I felt at summer camp when I met Grant."

The microwave began to beep and Kathleen quickly rose from her seat to check on the vegetables. Steam was filtering from the veggies when she extracted the container from the microwave. As she grabbed a block of cheddar cheese from the fridge she looked to her daughter. "Do you want any?"

Grace barely heard her and shook her head in response. She pressed her fingertips to her laptop and grazed her fingers along the shell. "I think I'm going to go finish my research in my room."

Kathleen nodded. "I – I hope you can understand," she finally said.

Without a word, Grace picked up her laptop and left.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Textbooks and an assortment of handwritten and typed notes and flash cards littered the comforter of Ben's bed. He and his girlfriend were sitting side-by-side, both Indian style, attempting to complete their respective homework. Ben kept twisting his head to steal a few peeks at Adrian, though she was oblivious to him. Finally he inched over to her and brushed her hair over her shoulder, revealing her bare neck.

Adrian angled her head. "What are you doing?"

Ben shrugged. "Nothing."

"Clearly." She returned her attention to her school book.

After a minute, Ben sat up on his knees and pressed a kiss to the curve between her neck and shoulder.

An electric shiver palpitated throughout Adrian's blood. "Ben…I'm trying to study," she said, trying her best to be stern without giving in the satisfaction of looking at him.

"I know." He leaned in again and kissed the rim of her ear.

Adrian shuddered again and this time closed her eyes. "Ben, come on. I've got so much homework I need to get done."

Still with him lips pressed to her ear he whispered, "My dad's not home tonight."

"I'm aware."

Ben let his hand fall down her back until it came to the rim of her shirt and then he began to wiggle his fingers beneath it. "And Mercy's asleep…"

At the touch of his warm fingers on her back, Adrian shivered and finally turned her head to face him. Before she could get a word out, she was met with his hungry mouth on hers and was caught up in the moment, suddenly wringing her hands around his neck.

Ben worked his hand up her shirt until he felt her bra and worked diligently to unclasp it. When he felt the clips slip off and the flaps of fabric fall away he moved one knee to the other side of Adrian's lap, straddling her.

Adrian kicked out her legs, accidentally knocking her textbook and notes to the ground in a simultaneous flutter and _flop_. She broke away from Ben's mouth breathlessly as Ben pushed her onto her back, so she was lying with her head on his pillow. As he reached to pull her shirt up she grabbed his wrists and shook her head. "Ben," she whimpered. "We have so much to do. We both have tests this week and-"

"Did you know that if you distract yourself in between major tasks, you can actually focus better, because you don't get burnt out?"

"And who's to say I won't be burnt out after this little distraction?"

"Little?"

Adrian grinned. "Oh, look how I've corrupted you. You are definitely not that naive little boy I met at the majorette retreat."

Without taking his eyes off her, Ben reached over to his dresser drawer and opened it, retrieving the same box of condoms with Italian writing on it – now a little beat up since their last night in Bologna – and pulled out a condom. "I'm not complaining."

"You'd better not be." Adrian snatched the condom from his hand and tore open the square package. As she slipped her fingers inside to retrieve the latex a loud shriek began to vibrate from the baby monitor.

Ben grunted and let his arms slag. "Well if that isn't instantaneous birth control, I don't know what is."

Adrian dropped the ripped open wrapper onto the nightstand and began to push Ben away. "I'll get her."

Ben grabbed her wrist and leaned in to kiss her. "You stay right here. I'll go get her." He reluctantly climbed off the bed and shuffled to the door. Before stepping out he pointed to Adrian. "Don't move a muscle! I'm serious, I'll take care of this and be right back!"

Adrian watched him leave and chuckled softly to herself. She glanced at the torn condom wrapper, then looked at the Italian condom box, and then lifted her head a few inches to eye the textbook and notes on the floor. After a moment, she turned her head against the pillow and saw that Ben's notes and textbook were still sitting on the other side of the bed. With a sly smile she pointed her foot like a ballerina in toe shoes and pushed Ben's textbook until it fell off the other side of the bed.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The lightning pace with which Ricky's fingers were kitting his keyboard sounded like rain against a window. He sat ramrod straight at his desk, studiously typing up an essay on _The Catcher in the Rye_, which he had decided to title "The Catcher in the Lie," and was so entrenched in the paper that the quiet knock on his bedroom door made him jolt and quickly typo. He shook himself off and hit backspace, saved, and then looked at the door. "Who is it?"

"It's me," Margaret's voice answered back.

"Come in."

The door grumbled as it opened and Margaret slipped in with an unreadable expression masking her normally sympathetic features.

"What's wrong?" Ricky immediately asked.

"There's someone here to see you."

Ricky blinked. "Uhm, now's not a good time, I've got this paper due in the morning and I need to finish it-"

"She says it's important."

"She?"

Margaret nodded.

"She who?"

At first Margaret said nothing. The silence was almost suffocating. Then Margaret tilted her head down just a degree or two. "Nora. Your mother."

Ricky stiffened against the back of his chair. He could feel his spine and shoulder blades digging into it. "She's _not _my mother."

Margaret's face remained unreadable. "She's waiting for you in the living room."

Ricky shook his head adamantly. "I don't want to see her. Tell her she can leave."

Margaret heaved a sigh. "I think you should talk to her."

"_Why?"_ Ricky suddenly stood up. "Why? She never did me any favors, so why should I do any for her?"

"Because you're a better person than that."

Ricky felt his eyes sting and he quickly turned his back to Margaret. He pressed his hand to the back of his head to support himself and he took several successive breaths in an attempt to calm is unspooling nerves. When he'd finally composed himself to a point where he could talk without fear of his voice cracking up like pop rocks he asked, "What does she want?"

"I'm not the person you need to ask."

Ricky remained rigidly locked in place until he heard Margaret's footsteps retreat from his room and his door click into place. Once he was sure she wasn't coming back he lifted his arm and wiped his face, surprised by the tear stains on his sleeve.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben awoke to the sound of the blaring alarm clock and blearily rolled out from under Adrian's arms so he could reach over to turn off the monstrously offending noise. He paused halfway turning back to the Latina to yawn.

Adrian stretched and readjusted herself beneath his black sheet. "If I fail my test this morning, I'm going to blame you."

"You're not going to fail, you're at the top of your class. I'm the one who should worry about failing."

"You shouldn't take on so many extracurricular activities then," she mused, sweeping up the three condom wrappers from the nightstand nearest to her and throwing him at Ben like confetti.

Ben batted away the wrappers and threw his arm around Adrian's waist, pulling her towards him. "I still need to get a shower. You wanna take one with me?"

Adrian smiled. "That sounds nice but…I need to make get home."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not wearing the same clothes to school two days in a row."

"You're a mom. People will understand."

Adrian flicked his nose. "No." She pushed him to the edge of the bed. "Go take your shower!" She sat up as her boyfriend climbed out of bed and combed her fingers through her hair a few times, then she leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed her bra and shirt from the floor. She shimmied into them and was just about to throw off the cover to find her pants and underwear when a ringing began to sound from her purse on the nightstand. Distracted, she grabbed her purse and dug around until she found her phone. _Heather_ was flashing on the caller I.D. "Hello?"

"Adrian? Did I wake you?"

Adrian laughed. "No, not at all. What's up?"

"I think I may have found a couple to adopt the baby."

"Really?" Adrian beamed. "That's great!" She moved her head around in search of her lost articles of clothing. "What're they like?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I guess I'm just having some anxieties about it that I was hoping I could talk out with you. Are you busy this morning?"

Adrian heard the shower turn on behind her. "Uh…well, I don't know. I don't have a lot of time, but I might be able to work something out." She looked back at the clock. "Can I check on a something and get back to you in a few minutes?"

"Yeah, yeah! Sure, thanks. I – I know this is an inconvenience, but thank you."

Adrian nodded. "Okay," she said just as she spotted her hip huggers. "I'll call you back in a few." She hung up and blew a large puff of air out of her mouth in exasperation. _"Ben!"_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Grace!" Kathleen's voice hollered from outside Grace's bedroom door. "Grant's waiting downstairs!"

Grace was already up and dressed in a cheerful strapless cotton spring dress that was white with a colorful, large print floral pattern adorning it, a white sweater, and a pair of bright yellow ballet flats with dainty bows on the toes. She was seated at her desk with her laptop open and her cell phone set down at her side. She picked up her cell phone and re-read a text message that had come in the previous afternoon.

_I guess I'd better get used to communicating to you through text because once your boyfriend's going to our school we probably won't have time to hang out anymore. P.S. Check your e-mail, I think you'll find it enlightening. Your long lost friend, Adrian._

Grace set her phone down again and turned her attention to her laptop screen. There were a number of windows opened and the one on the foreground was a video file she had downloaded from an e-mail that Adrian had sent her, which was opened in the window behind it. The image on the screen was paused on Grant and the plastic up he was crunching up in his hand as he stared at something off camera. Grace minimized the window, revealing Adrian's e-mail.

_I'm guessing this was the moment he saw you dancing with Ricky? Please tell him to stop harassing Ricky about it._

"Grace! Are you almost ready? You did say it was _today_ that you wanted me to pick you up, wasn't it?"

Grace jumped at the sound of Grant's voice. She quickly closed out her entire web browser and began shutting down her laptop. With a calculating breath she grabbed her cell phone, dropped it safely into her purse, and then strode over to the door and opened it to find her boyfriend standing anxiously on the other side. _"We need to talk."_


	14. When It's Gone

**A/N: **I'm sorry for such a crappy update delay. I had writer's block with this chapter, but the majority of the delay was due to the fact that my car got crashed, shit happened, and then I ran into university finals. (I literally just finished my last final a few hours ago.)

_**Turning Tables**_

**When It's Gone**

Grace sat with her hands in her lap in the passenger seat of Grant's car, parked in the Grant High visitor parking. She was staring out the front window shield watching the throngs of her peers swarm in and out of the building.

"You said you wanted to talk and yet you've barely said a word. Grace, what's going on?"

"When were you going to tell me that you were planning on switching schools?"

Grant was taken aback. "Wha – who told you that?" His face suddenly contorted. "Was it that _Ricky_?"

"No, actually, and it doesn't matter who I heard it from, what does matter is that I didn't hear it from _you_. Why would you want to switch schools?"

"To be closer to you!"

"No. That's a drastic move and you know it. You're doing it because you're jealous, even though I've told you a hundred times already that there is nothing between me and Ricky! He's just a friend!"

"You said yourself that you two used to date and that he's got a reputation for sleeping with virgins!"

"And I also said that he's not like that anymore and even if he was, I'd never sleep with him! I don't believe in premarital sex and you know that too!"

Grant curled his fingers into his palm and punched the steering wheel causing the horn to blare and a handful of people nearby to look up and stare at them. He waited until the leering eyes had returned to their own business and then continued angrily: "I'm sorry, Grace, but I just don't trust him." 

Grace stared at him disbelievingly. Her silver eyes began to well and she blinked back the extra moisture and turned her head away. Without looking at him she unlocked her seatbelt. "Then you don't trust me, because what you're really saying is that you think my willpower is so nil that I'll just give into Ricky if he wanted me to. Which he doesn't. _I_ asked _him_ to dance at the party. A dance between _friends_. Contrary to popular belief, boys and girls can be friends, Grant."

"I don't know about that."

"You really don't have any female friends?" At his silence, she reached for the door knob. "I saw what you did at the party," she said as she opened the door. "The look on your face, the way you crumpled that cup up. And all because I was dancing with a friend. Even if it hadn't been innocent, there was no need for that kind of reaction without getting all the facts, and that scares me."

"Grace-"

"No." She climbed out of the car, grabbed her backpack and purse, and then paused before shutting the door. "I need to think a few things over. I'm sorry, but please don't call me. I need my space right now. I'll contact you when I'm ready."

"Grace, come on! You're overreacting!"

"Pot, meet kettle." Grace closed the door and quickly and scurried into the pulsating crowd of students, hoping to blend in and slip away before Grant had any ideas of trying to follow after her.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"That's them?" Adrian asked while looking at a picture of a young Caucasian couple.

"Mhmm. Michaela and Joel Viceroy. They're in their early thirties and they've been trying to have children for several years, but they can't seem to conceive. They tried in vitro twice in the last year-and-a-half, but Michaela miscarried both times."

"That's terrible."

Heather nodded in agreement. "They're both really sweet. Michaela's a paralegal and Joel is owns a wrecking yard for supplemental income, but he'd like to be a stay-at-home dad. I actually think that's pretty neat."

Adrian nodded enthusiastically. "They sound wonderful so far."

"Yeah. I guess they were all set to adopt at the end of last year, but the mother changed her mind after the baby was born and they were crushed. They weren't even looking again until Margaret suggested that I meet with them."

"So what's the problem?"

"It's not a problem per se, it's more of a concern."

Adrian nodded. "What is?"

Heather touched her stomach and then reached into her bag and pulled out a folded up photo. She handed it to Adrian.

Adrian studied the photo carefully: it was a photo of a very not pregnant Heather, wrapped in the arms of a boy about her age of Eastern Indian descent. She lifted her eyebrow curiously. "Is this…"

"The father. Yes."

"You're concerned he's going to try and exert his paternal rights?"

"No. No." Heather tapped the photo. "The baby," she said slowly, "she's biracial."

Adrian blinked in surprise, having not even given that a consideration. "Yeah?" she replied. "So am I. So is Mercy."

Heather nodded. "Yeah, but a lot of people aren't. Joel and Michaela aren't. I'm afraid they're probably assuming she's going to be as white as I am, which I seriously doubt. That's unfortunately the world we live in: white skin is one of our cultural defaults. I'm not really sure how to tell them this, either."

"You said they're friends of Margaret and Shakur, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well Shakur's Eastern Indian too. I'd say that's at least a sign in your favor."

"True. But I can't just assume that. Plus, even if race isn't an issue for them, it could raise potential issues as she's growing up. I know there are kids who get picked on for being adopted and I've even known kids who are biracial who have been picked on for not looking like one of their parents. I just…I don't want to put my baby into a situation that's harmful to her."

"Kids are mean," Adrian sighed. "And people in general are wicked. I've been picked on for being 'Mexican' before," she said, using air quotations. "But my mom's Colombian. I just have darker skin than her and we both speak Spanish. No matter who you are or what you look like, kids will inevitably find a way to be cruel. So will parents. So will anyone. Even if you found a nice Eastern Indian couple for your daughter, you can't guarantee her the perfect upbringing. All that you can do is find two people who will love her and provide for her."

"So I should just tell them and get it over with?"

"Better sooner than being surprised in the hospital room. I mean, if they have an issue with the pigmentation in her skin, then they aren't the parents for your baby after all. But if they don't, then they really sound like two people who you should keep in mind."

Heather nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I think I knew that, I just needed to hear someone else say it too."

Adrian draped her arm around Heather's shoulders. "Sometimes we all do."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ricky dropped a quarter into the soda machine and listened to it clink somewhere within the machinery. He then rolled a second quarter around in his palm and stared at the soda button options. The message on the machine already registered _.75_but a drink robbed the buyer of a dollar. His eyes maneuvered over the options three times before he put the final quarter in and finally smacked the root beer button with his palm.

"You all right?"

The soda can popped out in time with Ashley's voice. "I don't want to talk about it."

Ashley shrugged. "Fine." She watched him pop the top on his soda and take a swig. "You should really wash of the tops of those. I heard that approximately one of every two soda cans has bacteria on the top."

"Like what?" he asked sarcastically. "Rat urine?"

"Among another things."

Ricky stopped drinking and pulled the can away from his lips. He looked at Ashley, then at the soda, and then finally tossed it into a nearby trashcan and listened to the soda gurgle and fizzle out at the bottom. "Happy now?"

"No. And neither are you." She shrugged indifferently. "But I'm not going to push you to talk about something you don't want to talk about."

Ricky looked around. "Not here."

"Not here?"

"I don't want to talk about it here."

"Where then?"

The drummer looked at his watch. "The band room. We've still got ten minutes before class."

Ashley nodded and followed him without question. When they got inside, it was empty, save for the band instruments people had left in the cubbies. She walked over to a set of drums and casually leaned up against one and waited.

Ricky plied his drumsticks out of his back pockets and sat down at the drummer's station. He lightly tapped the edges of the drums creating minimal noise. "Nora showed up last night."

Ashley's eyes rose in surprise. "That's – that's your biological mother, right?"

"Margaret's my mother in every sense of the word. Nora doesn't deserve the title in any respect."

"Okay then: Nora showed up last night. What did she want?"

Ricky closed his eyes and smacked the drumstick down on the face of one of the drums.

_Nora recoiled as Ricky's hand clashed against the wall and she immediately turned at the sound. Her face was still large and ovular but it was paler than Ricky remembered, an ashy sort of flesh. She had so many more wrinkles, too, like a cowboy's old leather belt. Her once almond shaped eyes now just looked like slits and her hair, at one time long and sugar brown, was now dull and cut to her shoulders. She looked at least a decade older than she should. Then she stood, revealing her bony, awkward, emaciated form. "Ricky," she whispered, her voice scratchy like a cold. Her skeletal hand moved to her mouth. "I can't believe how you've grown."_

"_What are you doing here, Nora?"_

_Nora winced at the sharp blades of ice in his tone. She rounded the sofa to stand in front of Ricky, about a yard stick away. She nodded understandingly. "I deserve that."_

"_You deserve much more than that."_

_Again, she agreed by moving her head up and down. "I wanted to apologize."_

"_It doesn't matter. What's done is done."_

"_It matters to me." She tried to step forward, only for Ricky to step back. Nora cast her eyes down. "It took me a long time to get clean."_

"_You don't look it."_

_Nora touched the curve of her arm unconsciously, even though she was wearing a long sleeved shirt. Then, as if realizing her mistake, she attempted a smile and awkwardly fiddled with the ends of her hair. "Right," she said. "Just think of all that youth I wasted on drugs and alcohol and smoking."_

"_Yours or mine?"_

_Nora's eyes glimmered in the pale living room light. She took the back of her hand to them. "I'm sorry for never protecting you," she said suddenly. "I'm sorry for turning to everything else to dull my own pain. You were just a boy."_

"_So that's why you came back?" Ricky asked coldly. "To remind me of all the things you didn't do?"_

_Nora shook her head. "No, I said I'm getting clean. And staying clean. This is part of the process: apologizing to those you've wronged. I've sent letters to a lot of people, Ricky. But you're the one I've wronged the most and I knew a letter wouldn't be enough. You don't have to accept it and I'm not asking for forgiveness, I just wanted you to know. And I wanted you to know face-to-face."_

_Ricky hung there for a moment, as if all of his muscles had come to a simultaneous and sudden stop. After so many lies and false promises, he wasn't sure whether to believe her or not. But he didn't live with her anymore – he was not her responsibility and had not been for years – so there was no need to lie. Unless… "Are you here for money?"_

_Nora staggered. "What?"_

"_Do you want money?" he repeated monotonously._

"_No. No! I'm not here for anything other than to tell you I'm sorry."_

"_Well," Ricky said slowly, stepping aside. "Then you've done that, so you can go."_

_Nora turned her head slightly. She mirrored an abused dog, not sure whether to follow her master's order or not. Finally she nodded again and inched towards Ricky until she was standing just inches from him, enough to touch his hair or cheek if she tried, but she didn't. She merely moved to the door and the moment was gone._

_Ricky watched her turn back to look at him and he saw twin tears run down her cheeks which she didn't bother to wipe away that time. He held his ground though, not budging until she had opened the door and walked out. He remained motionless until the door shut and clicked. When he heard a car take off outside he moved to the door and locked it. Once alone, he touched his own cheek and was surprised to realize it was also wet._

"Sounds like you were pretty harsh on her."

"You don't think she deserves it?"

"That's not what I said. I'm just giving you an honest observation. For the record, I'm sure she did deserve it and everyone deserves a little cold reality sometimes. That's part of the reason so many people would like to kick me in the teeth. But screw 'em." She shrugged, unaffected. "Still, if Nora is reaching out to you and really wants to change, that's something."

"Something of a miracle."

"You've changed," Ashley said pointedly. "Why can't she?"

Ricky rubbed one of his drumsticks over the other. "No wonder no one likes you."

"Why's that?" she asked, her tone suddenly transitioning to that of amusement.

"You make sense."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Nope. Can't do it!" Ben dropped the chrome scalpel on the table with a metallic ping and turned his head away from the corpse of the frog that he was supposed to be helping to dissect. "I'm sorry I'm such a lab partner fail," he confessed to Amy without looking at her.

Amy laughed and touched his arm. "It's okay, I get it."

"How can you not be squicked out?"

"Would it be weird if I told you my grandfather was an embalmer?"

"A little."

"Yeah," Amy agreed. "Well imagine growing up and going over to his house to visit. He had a funeral home instead of a garage and it always reeked of formaldehyde. You'd be surprised at how much I know much I know about decomposition."

"See, now if you were Ashley telling me this, I would say that would make all kinds of sense. But with you, I would've never guessed."

"Funny, given that your dad owns a butcher shop, I would've thought you'd be better mentally equipped for this sort of stuff."

"Yeah, I may be a butcher's son, but I'm no good at it. I've never been good with blood or pain," Ben squeaked.

"Uh, you do realize that it's not actually alive, right?" she asked in a playfully sarcastic tone.

"Doesn't matter. Just seeing that knife cut into frog flesh is bad enough for me. I have issues," he laughed. "I can't even be around other people who are in pain. It's like people who are sympathy pukers, I'm a sympathy hurter and I can imagine hurt enough for that frog and myself."

"Well fear not, because I think we're done here." Amy set down the scalpel, pushed the tray of utensils away, and peeled off the latex gloves she was wearing. "We just need to fill in the blanks now," she said, indicating their science handouts. She eyed the teacher's back as she helped out another pair of lab partners near the front of the room, then leaned into Ben and whispered conspiratorially, "And don't worry, I've got your back." Amy picked up her pencil and began to scribble in the answers on her paper and then slid it over to Ben to copy.

"I owe you something fierce!" Ben whispered as he began to copy the answers down.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The time on the lower right hand corner of Grace's laptop screen read _2:07 AM_. She sat cross legged on her bed draped in a pink Snuggie. A pale light reflected off her face from the rectangular box in her hands, a pink digital camera. Grace brought the camera closer to her face, studying the photographs of herself and Grant that had been taken over the summer at the Young Healers Camp.

"_Say cheese!"_

"_What are you doing with my camera?" Grace grinned. She put her hands on her hips in a mock authoritative gesture._

"_I can't help myself," Grant said as he took a snapshot of her. "I've got the most photogenic girlfriend in the world!"_

As Grace pressed her thumb down on the arrow button to the right of the LCD screen and went through the pictures, it occurred to her that the majority of them were of either her and/or Grant. And of the ones taken just of her, most of them had been taken by Grant himself. She set the camera down and picked up her cell phone and pressed a button to activate the backlight on the screen. When the backlight turned on it revealed Adrian's bitterly worded text message that had advised her to check her e-mail. Grace pressed two fingers to her right temple and shut her eyes against the sleep deprived headache that was slowly building behind her eyes.

_"He's really sweet, Adrian. He likes to shower me with attention."_

"_So in layman's terms: he's clingy."_

"_He is not!"_

"_He's texted you three times since you got to school."_

"_It's the first day we haven't seen each other in two months! We got really close, okay?" Grace's text message alert began to go off again and she sighed. "Okay, maybe he is a __little__ overzealous, but that's not necessarily a bad thing."_

"_I'm just glad he doesn't go to our school, otherwise I'd probably never see you again."_

The blonde set her phone down on the opposite side of her bed that the digital camera sat on and leaned forward, reaching for her laptop. She set it onto her lap and pulled it open. After typing in her password, the web browser was already up, opened to the Google search box. Grace placed her fingers to home row and let them linger there for a time, then she began to type and the words that eventually appeared in the search box read: _signs of an unhealthy relationship_. Upon clicking the magnifying glass 427,000 results came back in fifteen seconds. She began to scroll through them, all the while feeling her heart pumping in the back of her throat.

After scrolling for a while, she opted to click on a link titled: _Stay Teen | Dating Abuse_. First her eyes tumbled over the article and her pink lips moved quietly as she said the words inaudibly beneath her breath. After scrolling downwards she abruptly stopped and moved her fingertip to the screen to read the last few lines: "'Not sure if you're in an unhealthy relationship? Take a step back and ask yourself: Does your boyfriend or girlfriend: pressure you to make the relationship very serious or have sex early in the relationship or before you're ready? Act jealous or possessive? Try to control where you go, what you wear, or what you do? Text or instant message you constantly?'"

_Grant grabbed her wrist as she started to step over the threshold. "Grace," he said firmly._

_Grace frowned as she turned to him. "Yes?"_

"_Aren't you going to invite me in?"_

_Grace laughed lightly. "Oh, I'm sorry." She felt her cheeks warm faintly. "I'm sorry, I would, but my mom's not home and-"_

"_That's the point."_

Grace quickly looked down at her wrist and gave it a rub as she recalled the way Grant had lingered on her porch until she had turned out the lights that night. It had struck her funny then, wondering why he hadn't left yet, but now it made her insides start to twist. She quickly pushed her laptop away and wrapped her arms around her stomach. "Adrian was right."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"It's four in the morn_-awh_," Ben yawned from the doorway of the nursery. He covered his mouth as his ears popped inside his head and then she blinked sleepily. "-ing. Come to bed."

Adrian was reclined in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, wide awake. "I can't," she sighed somewhere between bitter and regretful.

"Why not?"

"I can't sleep."

Ben shuffled across the carpet to stand by his girlfriend's side. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

"Is this about Grace?" Ben tried again. _Silence._ He placed one hand on Adrian's shoulder and began to massage it. "Please?" he begged. "Talk to me?"

"She's my best friend," Adrian finally breathed out. "Maybe I was too hard on her?" She lifted her hand revealing her cell phone.

"Is she not talking to you?"

"I don't know. I was so mad and jealous after Ricky told me about Grant that after school got out just I sent her that text and the e-mail in the heat of the moment. I guess I figured she'd come to me and want to apologize or something. _At least_ see things my way on him this time. But she avoided me all day. I tried to pretend it didn't bother me but-"

"She's your best friend."

"Yeah."

"I know you don't want to hear this, but maybe – just_ maybe_ – you should apologize?"

Adrian let her head fall sideways onto Ben's hand which was still positioned on her shoulder. "You're right," she sighed. "I didn't want to hear that."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Grace! I can't tell you how relieved I was to get your call this morning." Grant pulled his arm out from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of red and pink roses. "I've been thinking about everything and you're absolutely right. I overreacted. I'm sorry! It won't happen again, I promise." He pushed the roses at the blonde.

Grace pursed her lips uneasily and shook her head.

Grant blinked, stunned. "You don't like them?"

"No, it's not that. They're – they're beautiful."

"Then what's wrong?"

Grace covered her hand with her mouth. "I – I'm sorry, Grant. But I can't."

His eyes turned hard. "You can't what?"

"I can't do this. I accept your apology and I appreciate it, but I can't just continue on like this never happened. There are just all these little things and-" A noise escaped the back of her throat. She swallowed and felt her eyes sparking up. "I just don't think we're as good for each other as we thought. That might be partly my fault because I rushed into this relationship without thinking about it. My dad had just passed away and you helped ease that pain a little. I'm grateful for that, but I just don't think we work in the long term."

"So you're breaking up with me?" he snapped. "Because I got jealous and made one lousy mistake? What happened to your morals, Grace? I thought you were a Christian!"

"I am a Christian! And I told you that I forgive you, but it doesn't matter! I can't be your girlfriend anymore, Grant. I'm sorry. I really am!"

"Yeah. Sure you are, Grace." Grant lifted the bouquet between them. He turned it horizontally and grabbed the stems beneath the roses and began to bend and twist them until each stem finally frayed and broke in half, then he threw the flowers on the ground at Grace's feet. His hands were stained with fresh blood from the thorns when he was done. "Screw you!"

Grace covered her mouth as she watched Grant climb back into his car, slam the door, and break the speed limit out of the Dairy Shack parking lot. Tears were falling down her face as she looked down at the ruined bouquet. She staggered back and pulled her cell phone out of her purse, only realizing that she had a missed call from Adrian when she flipped it open. Whimpering, she hit the callback button and pressed the phone to her ear as it began to ring.

By the second ring Adrian's voice was on the other line: "Grace! Look, did you get my message? I'm-"

"S – sorry," Grace stuttered into the phone. "I'm sorry. Y – you were right, Adrian."

"Grace, what's going on? What's wrong?"

Grace wiped her face with the back of her hand. "Can you c-come pick me up?" she whimpered. "P-please?"

"Where are you?"

"The Diary Sh-"

"I'm on my way."


	15. Loathed And Lost

**A/N: **My muse hated me this chapter. She wanted to work on chapter sixteen instead. Also, special thanks to **Heart of the Wind 007**. Your reviews have been such a special treat to read over the past few days. Thanks so much!

_**Turning Tables**_

**Loathed And Lost**

Grace was clothed in a thick white cotton bathrobe with a golden letter in calligraphy so swirly that it was unreadable. She was reclined in a leather chair with her goldilocks hair pulled into a ponytail, her face covered in a mint green paste, and two cucumber slices over each of her eyes. She lifted her right arm and plucked one cucumber slice from her eye to peer at Adrian, who was clothed in the same way about five feet away, and then replaced the slice.

"As amazing as this is, you know that you don't need to keep spending money on me, right? You have a baby to take care of you know. Besides, you've already sufficiently apologized for the whole Grant thing…which you were right about anyway. I'm pretty sure three consecutive Girls' Weekends is a little overkill."

"First of all, one can never have too many Girls' Weekends. Second of all, regardless of how I feel about him, you did just go through one hell of a nasty breakup. And third, today doesn't count as me spending money on you. I already told you: they're comps."

"Where does one get comps like this? It's got to cost a fortune!"

"My mom gets them from time to time. Let's just say she knows a lot of frequent fliers in her line of work. We usually use them together, but she told me I could take you this time instead."

"Really?" Grace replied guiltily. "I should write her a thank you card."

"They're just comps, Grace."

"Still, that's pretty generous of her. I don't think I've ever been in a hotel this nice in my entire life! Let alone had the pleasure of a spa day."

Adrian smirked. "Just wait until the full body massage! Let me tell you, the male masseuses here…" She gave a high pitched whistle of approval, causing her friend to laugh out loud.

Grace reached up to scratch the tip of her nose. "I have to admit: it has been nice to be able to escape my mom and George. And just forget about Grant for a while. It's too bad my mom can't see that she rushed into things with George the way I did with Grant."

"Well it's a little different with your mom and George, isn't it?" Adrian asked cautiously. "I mean, they had history, whereas you and Grant-"

"Which is why it should be even more obvious to her that it's a mistake. Did I tell you she's actually invited him over for Thanksgiving?"

"Only for the hundredth time," the Latina deadpanned.

"I don't even know how that's going to work. It's going to be so awkward! I just-"

Adrian raised her hand. "_Stop!_ We're here to relax and enjoy ourselves, not work ourselves up. Come on, Grace. Just take a deep breath and relax. How's the facial working for you?"

"Do you think it's blasphemous to say it feels heavenly?"

Adrian snorted amusedly. "For the next month you'll have a face so soft it'll make a newborn's rear end seem like diaper rash."

Grace's blonde eyebrows arched above the cucumber slices. "That's not quite the analogy I wanted to hear, but I get what you're saying."

"No, really," Adrian smirked. "Take it from me: I've had a newborn. These facials are fucking _amazing_."

Grace smiled. "Thanks Adrian. I'm lucky to have a friend like you."

Adrian shook her head. "_I'm_ the lucky one, Gracie."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I'm sure my mom would appreciate the offer, but we're going up to Palm Springs for Thanksgiving." Amy was standing in front of the open refrigerator, putting away an armful of meats that Ben had brought over from the butcher shop.

Ben nodded in understanding. "How's Mimsy doing, by the way?"

Amy smiled sadly as she shut the door. "Worse. But at least she's got her husband up there to take care of her I guess."

"Her husband? I thought you said your grandfather passed away?"

"It's her new husband, Eugene. We didn't even know they got married until Jimmy's dad told us. He'd been going over there to check on her every few days for my mom."

"They just married out of the blue? That sounds a little…s-"

"Suspicious?"

"Strange."

Amy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we thought so too. But Mr. Nash ran a background check on him and he seems harmless enough. He seems to be taking pretty good care of her too, as far as we can tell. Eugene says his mother had Alzheimer's years ago and so he's familiar with how to deal with it."

Ben moved over to the kitchen table and sat down. "So, you and Jimmy are still going strong then?"

Amy smiled in spite of herself. "Yeah. He sends me an e-mail at least once a day, it's really sweet. I never thought a long distance relationship could be so much fun. Hard, but fun. We write each other too. He sends me pictures and poems and all these crazy little trinkets. Last week I got this little glass jar in the mail that's got sand he got from the coast in it. But he dyed the sand and then painted these itsy bitsy little seashells and put them all in there together." She turned away as her face started to turn pink. "It sounds kind of stupid when I say it like that," she said afterwards. "But that was where we had our first date."

"So it's not so silly after all."

Amy nodded. She seemed to study him for a split moment, then brushed it off as quickly as it had come. "Anyway, tell your dad thank you for the meat. He really doesn't have to keep sending you over here with it you know."

"He knows that, but he wants to help out. You're friends. More than friends, actually, and my dad likes to help out people he cares about when he can." Ben suddenly noted the clock on the kitchen wall. "Shoot! I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was so late. I need to get home. My dad's supposed to meet Camille for dinner tonight and Adrian's out with Grace, so I need to get home to watch Mercy. Not to mention I probably need to tidy up because Henry and Alice are supposed to come over for a long overdue sleepover tonight."

Amy frowned a little but nodded nonetheless. "Sure, of course. Tell your dad thanks again!"

"I will." Ben gave Amy a quick hug. "I'll see you later?"

"Mhmm." Amy followed Ben to the door and reached out to open it for him when it pushed backwards into her hand. She jumped back as Ashley pushed her way inside, followed by Ricky. Amy immediately crossed her arms as she locked eyes with the elder boy as he passed.

Ben motioned his hand at Ashley who vaguely returned the gesture, then he nodded to acknowledge the drummer. "Bye Amy," he said.

"Bye." Amy waited until Ben had gotten to his limo before shutting the door, then she promptly spun around as Ricky and Ashley were halfway up the stairs. "Where do you think you're going?"

"None of your business," Ashley rebutted.

"Mom's not home, so I'm in charge, which makes boys in the house my business."

"What was Ben doing here?"

"Bringing over something from the butcher shop! You know that."

"I'm helping her study," Ricky said finally. "Is that okay with you?"

"In her room?"

"Where else would I study?"

"How about the living room?"

"Oh, what?" Ashley scoffed. "You actually think I'd be stupid enough to sleep with him with you in the house?"

"I'd like to think you wouldn't be stupid enough to sleep with him at all."

"I'm just here to help Ash with her chemistry."

Amy folded her arms. "Just keep the door open."

Ricky hurried up the steps behind Ashley and followed her down the hall to her bedroom where the latter quickly shut the door with extra force for effect. "It's your fault if she comes to break it down."

The freshman plopped down on the edge of her bed and began to rummage through her backpack for her Honors Chemistry book. "Amy couldn't break through a beaded curtain."

"Be nice."

"Why? She's never nice to you."

"She doesn't know me. As I recall, you didn't used to be very nice to me either."

"The difference is that I did try and get to know you."

"Only after I scared the hell out of you. Come on, Ash. You need to be nicer to your sister; be the bigger person here. I know you're capable. Do you really think all of your fighting is any help to your mom?"

Ashley sighed and closed her chemistry textbook. "You don't know what it's like to have siblings, okay? It's not that I don't love Amy, but sometimes – strike that, _most_ of the time – she just worms her way under my skin and makes me _so_ mad!"

"Believe it or not, I get that. I've had several siblings."

"What?"

Ricky nodded. "Foster siblings, but siblings nonetheless. There was one in particular, Ethan…he was around the longest, until Mom caught him stealing from her and that was the last straw – there'd been plenty of other things he'd done prior – but he finally had to go. Still, I considered him the closest thing to a little brother I ever had. He reminded me a lot of myself at his age, as cliché as it sounds. Minus the sexual abuse. His had been strictly physical." Ricky suddenly whipped his head back and forth. "But that's not the point. I'm just saying: sometimes you need to try and be understanding of people, even when all you feel like doing is biting their heads off."

Ashley sighed dramatically. "I guess I could try that," she bemoaned. "But only if you can do something for me as well."

"What's that?"

"Check the preachiness at the door, alright? I don't want to have to start calling you Gary."

"Gary?"

"As in Stu."

"What?"

Ashley shook her head. "Never mind. Just – _watch it_."

"Whatever makes you happy."

Ashley began to tap the cover of her chemistry book with her left index finger. "Speaking of happiness, has yours improved any?"

"Since?"

"Since Nora. I mean, she hasn't contacted you since that night a few weeks ago, has she?"

"No." Ricky narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Just curious. You haven't really brought it up, so I didn't want to pry, but I've still been wondering what became of her. Or if you ever took what I told you to heart."

"I haven't. Spoken to her I mean, not taken your words to heart. Don't think that I didn't think about what you said, but I'm just not ready." As an afterthought he added, "Maybe I even want her to suffer a little. Maybe that sounds ugly and selfish, but I don't really care."

"So it's okay for you to be mad at Nora but not for me to be mad at Amy?"

"They're not even remotely the same thing. You don't _hate_ Amy."

"And you don't _hate_ Nora."

Ricky snatched up Ashley's textbook and opened it to a random page near the middle. "What was it I came over here for again?"

Ashley rolled her eyes as she pulled her assignment sheet out of her backpack. "Hypocrite."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Grace let her head fall against the wooden panels in the sauna room. "I could stay in here forever," she moaned.

"If I had Ben in here, so could I."

"Is that a sexual allusion?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm tired of people talking about sex," Grace complained. "As I think back on our relationship, Grant was constantly trying to get me to have sex with him. It just makes me mad, you know? I told him what my beliefs are and even though he told me he respected them I think that was just to pacify me until the next time he'd try it."

"You should've picked Jason. You were so into him before you ended up with Grant."

"But Jason never seemed interested."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Well he never asked me out."

"Oh, my poor, naive little Grace. That boy had his eyes all over you! In a sickeningly respectful way that I absolutely would not have stood for if I had been you, that is." She winked. "Are you seriously telling me you went out with Grant because Jason didn't speak up first?"

"Well…he brought me Jamba Juice and we talked a lot during mealtime and in our discussion lectures, but I thought he was just being friendly because I was the only other person he knew there. Then I recognized Grant during rounds and I reintroduced myself and we hung out. He was really funny and sweet. Then he eventually asked me out on a breakfast date and it was full steam ahead from there."

"The ironic thing is that you say Grant didn't respect your wishes, but I'd be willing to bet that's why Jason never made the first move. I can't think of anything more plausible."

"Unless he really did just see me as a friend."

"I repeat: _plausible_. Maybe you should take the initiative and ask him next time?"

Grace shook her head. "Oh no. Jason's very nice and everything, but I'm not planning on getting into another relationship so soon! Jack and Grant have given me enough trouble, thank you very much."

"And don't forget Ricky."

"He was merely a blip on my radar. That crush is crushed. Besides, Ricky isn't ready to be in a relationship with anyone right now anyway."

"I'll drink to that!"

Grace bit her lip. "We don't have any drinks."

"Care to rectify that?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Three weeks in a row, Ben?"Alice Valko said. She was sitting in the nursery with her best friend as the latter busied to change Mercy's diaper at the changing table. "Isn't that a little excessive?"

"Three week_ends_," he corrected. "And I don't mind. Really. Mercy isn't just Adrian's responsibility. Plus I know she's only trying to help Grace right now."

"If you say so," she mumbled skeptically.

"Don't be unfair, Alice. Adrian has her most of the time anyway." Ben tossed the dirty diaper into the Diaper Genie and scooped his daughter off the table. "There you go, all happy and fresh!"

Alice tilted her head back to look at the babe in Ben's arms. "I can't believe she has all that hair for a six-month-old."

"Six months and eleven days," Ben beamed. "She looks just like her mama!"

"Actually," Alice intoned, "it reminds me of your mom. I mean, okay, so her hair is black like Adrian's, but just look at the texture and the sheer mass."

Ben wiggled his finger through a black ringlet sentimentally. "Sometimes there are these little moments that flash across her face where I can swear I see my mom. They're so subtle though and gone in a flash. It's in the way she might crinkle her nose or smile at me."

"So it's kind of like you got a little bit of your mother back?"

Ben snuggled his face into his daughter's neck. "Mercifully, yes. She was a blessing in disguise. It's so strange being a father at sixteen. I never thought I could do this; I never thought it could be so rewarding. Sometimes I want to pull my hair out, don't get me wrong, but others I couldn't wish for anything better."

"You're stronger than me. If I somehow got pregnant right now, I wouldn't be able to do it."

"You say that now, but parenthood changes you."

"But not always for the better. But in your case, I'm glad you didn't draw the short stick." She suddenly looked at her watch. "Damnit, where's Henry? He's already fifteen minutes late! How are we supposed to have an old school sleepover if he can't even show up on time?"

Mercy gurgled and popped a few spit bubbles with her pudgy hand.

"That's right," Ben agreed. "He'll be here, don't worry." He grabbed a burp pad and quickly wiped off her glistening lips, chin, and fingers. "A year ago cleaning up bodily fluids like this would've made me exceptionally queasy"

Alice smirked. "And now you're exchanging bodily fluids with the most wanted girl on campus on a nightly basis."

"Not _nightly_!" Ben rolled his eyes. "Just…whenever we can be together at one of our houses and her mother or my father isn't home…and Mercy's preoccupied."

"Well I hope you're watching yourself," Alice warned. "About twenty-five percent of teen mothers get pregnant again within two years of the birth of their first."

"Trust me, that's _not_ going to happen," Ben assured. He shook his head at his daughter. "You don't want a brother or sister for a long, loooong time, do you?" He kissed her button nose. "I didn't think so!"

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm pretty sure Mercy was the result of a really old, poorly kept condom and Adrian's lack of secondary birth control. But probably – mostly – the old condom. We haven't made that mistake again. In fact, sometimes we even use three types of precautions, just to be on the safe side." Ben started to feel his face heat up. "I can't believe I'm even talking to you about this."

"I'm your best friend. Who else would you talk to about this?"

"Henry?"

Alice snorted. "If you want the facts, go to anyone _but_ him. Trust _me_ on this."

"Were you guys talking about me?" Henry asked, poking his head into the nursery.

Alice just smiled as Ben shook his head. She walked over to Henry and conveniently distracted him with a kiss on the lips.

"Ooh," Henry mumbled against her lips. "I didn't know we were having _that_ kind of sleepover."

"At Ben's house? Of course we're not. That's just to tide you over until next weekend."

Ben raised his eyebrow. "So you guys have finally graduated to…_you know_?"

Henry made a huffing noise. "If you mean a home run, then no."

"But we have moved up the bases," Alice winked.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Uh oh, it's probably time for you to go," Ashley said, looking out the window.

Ricky could hear the sound of a car motor outside. "Afraid you mom is going to suspect we're up here doing more than just studying?"

"That's what Amy will try and put in her head, especially since I locked her out."

"Remember what I said."

"Ditto."

Ricky collected his belongings. "It's been fun."

"We should do this again sometime," Ashley smirked as she opened her bedroom door. They could hear the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

Ricky stepped over the threshold just as Anne Juergens and Amy came into view. He nodded pleasantly to Anne. "Mrs. Juergens, it's good to see you." He shuddered at how haggard she looked; at least a decade older than she should. As far as he knew, she wasn't a smoker, so he figured it was likely the stress and her new job.

"Ricky," Anne said. She spied her youngest daughter as the freshman popped out of her room.

"Did you come all the way up here for little ol' me?" she asked, looking pointedly at Amy. "Was the wild sex we were having up here hurting your ears?"

"Ashley!" Anne scolded.

Ricky lifted his hand to his mouth to try and hide his snicker behind a well placed cough. He was pretty sure Amy and Anne saw right through it, but neither said anything. "We've been working on chemistry only."

"The academic subject," Ashley clarified monotonously. "Not the undeniable attraction between us."

"I'll see you later, Ash," Ricky nodded before slipping past Amy and down the stairs. He could hear a fight brewing overhead as he got to the bottom and decided to quicken his pace out the front door. As soon as he was out he fished around for his cell phone and keys on the way to his car. He'd found his cell by the time he got to the driver's side and paused at the door to check for any missed calls. There was only one, from Margaret.

"Ricky, I got your message. I can't say I'm not disappointed that Heather has other plans for Thanksgiving, but I'm sure she'll have a wonderful time at Leo's. Maybe we can have her over for Christmas instead? Also, can you please pick up a gallon of milk on your way home if you can? Thank you!"

Ricky erased the message and snapped his phone shut. He checked his wallet and found a five dollar bill, enough for the requested milk. He inserted the key into the ignition, but didn't turn it, and stole another glance at his cell phone. For a moment a glazed look seemed to fall across his eyes, as if he was having an internal war with himself. It dissipated less than a minute later and he shook his thoughts away and revved the engine before taking off.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I didn't know nails could be this shiny without polish," Grace said. Her hands were rested on her knees and her fingers were splayed out, revealing her gleaming nails.

"You can buy buffing sets yourself, but who has the time? I prefer the manicure appointments."

Grace dramatically picked up her purse from the floor. "I feel like a movie star!"

"You're welcome."

"Thank you! Today was amazing! I know I'm lavishly overusing that word, but it was. As were the last two weekends you've taken me some place. I really appreciate it, Adrian. It's been good to just talk things out and have a relationship detox. It's been kind of a pallet cleanser for my soul."

"You're so dramatic."

"Look who's talking!"

Adrian lifted her shoulders up and down carelessly. "At least I don't deny it." She nodded towards Grace's house, which they were currently parked in front of. "You ready to get out?"

Grace looked to the driveway where she could see George's car. "No."

"Do you want to stay the night at my place? My mom's home, but she likes you, so it's no big deal."

Grace shook her head. "No, I still have homework to finish tonight and there's no way I'd get it done if I went to your house…no offense."

"Well good luck then."

"Yeah," Grace murmured. She unbuckled herself and reached across the seat to give Adrian a hug. "Thanks for being such a good friend."

As the blonde got out Adrian heard her cell phone go off. It was Ben's ringtone so she answered it as she watched her friend walk up to the door. "Hello?"

"Hey, you answered!"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I called earlier but-"

"I was with Grace, you know that."

"Yeah, well, I was just wondering if you were still coming to pick up Mercy. It's getting kind of late-"

"I just dropped Grace off, so I'm on my way. Is your dad home?"

"No. But tonight's my sleepover with Henry and Alice, I told you that. So we couldn't no matter what."

"Crap, I forgot. All right, I'll be over there shortly."

"Okay, I'll see you when I see you."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Four days later Ricky found himself seated alone in his driver's seat under the cloak of darkness. His legs were stiff from having been in the same position for hours and he needed to pee really bad, but he couldn't find the nerve to move. He was parked in front of a halfway house in a familiar part of town just on the outskirts of Valley Glen.

The place was two stories, but tiny relative to the buildings around it. It was certainly a far cry from the old hotel he remembered as a kid where he'd spent many hours of his youth there after the abuse had started. His mother had turned to the oldest profession in the book to feed her drug and alcohol addictions and in a kind of _Dirty Pretty Things_ twist, she exchanged favors with the hotel manager for place to run her business.

When Ricky's phone began to buzz in the passenger seat for the nth time, he looked over and noted that this time it was Shakur calling. The many previous calls had been from Margaret. Both were no doubt wondering where on Earth he was for Thanksgiving. He knew he should've told them, but he wasn't even sure he'd go through with his plans himself at first. Even after he'd gotten to the halfway house, he hadn't been sure, hence the reason he'd been sitting on the curb for hours.

It was nearly six-thirty when he looked at the clock on his dashboard. Taking a deep breath he finally pushed open the door and trudged up the chipping cement steps to the front door. He could hear a considerable amount of noise coming from the other side, probably due to thin walls. Before he could change his mind he rapped his knuckles against the door and shoved his fists into his pockets, waiting with a knot the size of California in his stomach.

The door opened and a middle aged Asian woman popped her head out. "Yes?" she asked cautiously, her heading bouncing back and forth to make sure Ricky was by himself.

"I'm looking for Nora Underwood," he said slowly. "Is she here?"

The woman seemed unsure. "Uh…who are you?"

Ricky hesitated. "I – just tell her…just tell her that her son wants to see her."

Suddenly the woman's worried expression gave way to a smile. "_You're_ Ricky?"

Ricky froze. "You – how do you –"

"Nora! Nora! Come quick, Ricky's here!"

Ricky could hear commotion inside, followed by the stomping of footsteps. Before he had a chance to process what was going on, the door was thrust open and he could see the faces of several women staring back at him. None of them, however, were Nora. He tried to avoid looking at them by shifting his eyes down, but that did nothing for the murmurs and sparse words he could hear.

"Is that really him?"

"…older than I pictured."

"She's going to…"

"I can't believe he's really…"

"_Ricky?"_

Ricky's head shot up at the last voice and a hush fell over the scene. He clenched his fists and made sure to keep himself as composed as possible. "I know it's last minute, but I hope you didn't already have plans for tonight, because I came to take you home for Thanksgiving."

Nora looked around at the sea of faces. One by one they began to nod and a few even patted her encouragingly. Slowly she allowed a smile to take form on her lips. "Plans? You know me, I never plan anything." She pushed a swathe of hair behind her ear. "Just let me get my coat."

Ricky nodded. "I'll be in the car," he said, motioning to the curb. He turned before anyone could say anything else to him and jogged back down the steps to his car. As soon as he got inside he picked up his phone and dialed his mom's cell phone.

"Ricky? Ricky, is everything okay? Where are you?" Margaret demanded, her voice a mix of frustration and immense relief.

"Everything's all right. And before you get mad, know that I had a reason for doing what I did. You can punish me for it tomorrow, but please let's not talk about it until then."

"What's going on?"

Ricky looked up to see Nora heading down the steps towards his car. "I can't talk about it right now, just know I'll be home soon…and set another place at dinner. Thanks. I love you. Bye." He hung up just as Nora arrived at the passenger window and he clicked the button on his armrest, unlocking the door.

Nora climbed inside. She set her coat in her lap and instinctively locked the door manually before pulling her seatbelt around herself. She didn't say anything until they were on the freeway. "That was quite an entrance back there. What's with the change of heart?"

"You said you were trying to change. I guess, for the first time in our lives, we finally have something in common. So I thought tonight would be appropriate. Isn't that what Thanksgiving is all about? People coming together; forming alliances? I'm not saying it will all be peaches and cream from here on out, but I am saying…well, I'm saying: I forgive you, Nora. And happy Thanksgiving."


	16. Just Pray Me

**A/N: **This chapter turned out to be much longer than I was anticipating. ;)

_**Turning Tables**_

**Just Pray Me**

"It's too tall, Dad's angel will bump her head on the ceiling."

George and Kathleen exchanged uncomfortable looks and thick silence coated the living room like the aftermath of Fruity Pebbles on the roof of one's mouth. George quietly reached his hand around to the back of his neck and scratched it awkwardly. "Well, uh…I-"

"Cut it!" Tom's voice interrupted loudly.

Grace whirled around to see her brother holding a giant pair of gardening sheers in his hands. He began to open them up with both hands, playing with them like they were a normal hand sized set of scissors.

"Tom!" Kathleen gasped. She rushed for her son. "What are you doing with these? That's dangerous!"

"I'm jus' tryin' 'a help Grace," he said, looking to his sister. "Snip, snip!"

George suddenly moved across the room to take the sheers from Kathleen. "Actually, I think that's a great idea, Tom." He climbed up the step ladder that was positioned in front of the Christmas tree and snipped off the point of the tree. A bristly point about three inches tall fell off and landed with a plop on the white sheet that had been spread out beneath the tree. He climbed back down and looked to Grace for approval. "How's Marshall's angel feeling the tree now?" he asked hopefully.

Grace looked between George and the tree several times before she finally shook her head. "I'm sorry. I just…don't like it." She clutched the Christmas angel to her chest and quickly left the room. On her way out she thought she could hear her mother apologizing to George, but she couldn't make it out for sure and she wasn't about to turn back to see.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"This is a disaster!" Adrian groaned as Mercy wailed in the background.

"I think the flash is scaring her," Ben said as he followed Adrian around the photographer.

Adrian stepped onto the stage where a faux Christmas tree and presents had been set up and scooped up her daughter from the floor. The little girl was dressed in a scarlet velvet dress with white lace trim and she had had a miniature Santa hat on her head but she'd thrown it off almost immediately after it had been put on, thrice.

"Is that big scary camera making you upset?" Ben asked. "It's just like daddy's and you love daddy's! Only…bigger. And flashier."

Adrian glared. "You're not helping."

"I don't understand," Ben complained. "My dad got pictures taken of me every holiday since I was born. He says I always loved them!"

"Well she's not you."

Ben watched helplessly as Adrian paced back and forth with their daughter in her arms. "What's wrong?"

"What does it look like?"

"No, not this. You're being extra erm, _cranky_, this week." He cast his eyes down bashfully. "It's not, um, you know…"

"_What?"_

"That time of the month?"

Adrian growled under her breath. "Seriously, Ben? You're stooping to _that_? You've never just had a bad, stressful week? Women don't just have them during their periods." She didn't even bother to care that she was talking rather loudly and that the photographer as well as a few families in line were staring at her.

Ben shrugged again. "I was just asking! I'm sorry. My bad. I – I just don't appreciate you taking it out on me. I haven't done anything but tried to help you."

Adrian closed her eyes in defeat. "You're-"

"Excuse me," the photographer interrupted. "But we've got a long line. I'm sorry, but if you can't get your baby to sit through the photo shoot, we're going to need to move on."

Ben looked at Adrian, then at his daughter, and finally pressed his palm to his face in defeat. "Where do I get my refund at?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"If I get any bigger I'm going to have things orbiting around me," Heather complained as she retrieved a Tupperware container from her freezer.

"You look great," Ricky said. He was sitting cross legged on the floor of what his friend called her living room as the redhead heated up one of Grace's creations in the microwave. "In fact, I think you fit right in for this time of year."

"What?" Heather bit back sarcastically. "Big, red, and white?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of glowing. I never really knew what they meant by the 'pregnancy glow' until Adrian was pregnant, but I'm seeing it with you now."

Heather rolled her eyes. "It's not really as glamorous as it sounds. It's actually just the fact that I have twice as much blood pumping beneath my skin that makes me look 'rosier.'"

"Is it any wonder why you hate poetry?" he smirked.

"Oh shut up!"

Ricky swiftly ducked as a paper plate came flying at his head like a Frisbee. "Hey, so what are you doing for Christmas?"

Heather shrugged. "I'll be here, same as always."

"Well my family and I wanted to invite you over, if you're interested. My mom was hoping you'd come over for Thanksgiving, but Mr. Boykewich got to you first, so she told me I should ask you early this time."

"Really? I don't want anyone to feel obligated to ask just because of my situation."

"Who said anything about obligation? We _want_ you over." Ricky eyed her belly as Heather came over and grunted as she sat down on a throw pillow in front of him. "Both of you. How's she doing, by the way?"

Heather offered him a Tupperware container filled with half of the spaghetti she'd heated up and a fork. "Good. Real good. I suspect she might grow up to be the next women's soccer champion with the way she keeps gutting me."

"She sounds like a firecracker, just like her mom."

Heather slugged the older boy playfully. "Stop it," she laughed. Heather set her food down and gingerly touched her stomach. "She'll be a whole lot better than me, I'm sure. And smarter. I have faith that she's going to go to a good home, grow up with two loving parents, and be smart enough to not have unprotected sex with the first guy who tells her he loves her. Won't you?"

"Did you love him?"

Heather stared into her noodles for a long time before answering. "I thought I did. But maybe it was just infatuation. I know he never loved me. Can you be 'in love' with someone who is not in love with you?"

Ricky shrugged. "Can a person fall out of love?"

"I guess."

"So, say, one person falls out of love and one person doesn't: you'd be in love with someone who isn't in love with you, right?"

Heather nodded. "I guess that makes sense."

"So, then, why can't people fall in love even if someone else never does?"

"I never thought about that before."

Ricky stabbed his noodles with his plastic fork. "Maybe I've thought about it too much."

Heather placed her hand on his wrist. "Hey, just because it's December doesn't mean we have to get all mushy. You wanna go shopping with me tomorrow? It's not much, but my boss gave everyone a really tiny Christmas bonus, so I thought I might pick up a few things."

Ricky nodded. "I'd like that."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The following morning the smell of oatmeal and melting brown sugar permeated the Bowman kitchen. "I got this in the mail the other day."

Grace didn't look up from her oatmeal until she saw her mother set down a piece of paper beside her on the kitchen table. Without lifting her head to look at the paper, she slid her hand across the table and pulled the paper into her lap. "It's an ad," she replied bluntly. Grace resumed pushing the lumpy oatmeal around in her bowl and watching the thick wad of butter melt over the sugary gray mess.

"For used cars," Kathleen nodded. "I heard that December is a good month to buy a car because dealers are putting of their holiday and end-of-the-year sales." She shrugged casually. "I don't know if that's _true_, but that's what I heard."

Grace pushed the ad up the table and poked at her oatmeal with her spoon. "Is something wrong with your car?"

"What?" The elder blonde laughed light heartedly. "No, sweetie. I was thinking of you. A car for you."

Grace perked up ever so slightly. "Really?" She pushed her oatmeal aside. "Can we really afford that?"

Kathleen nodded. "Your father and I have put a little money away here and there over the years for you. And I don't mean just for college. We knew you'd eventually be – God forbid – a _licensed driver_. Plus, I was thinking if we don't have enough to cover it, we could use a little of the money your father left you, _if_ you wanted."

"I want!" Grace felt her cheeks burn. "I mean, yeah, I'd love that!" She smiled genuinely. "I can't believe we're really talking about this. After Dad – um – I mean, didn't think getting a car was any kind of real possibility. At least not for quite a while."

"I was thinking we might do a little window shopping after church today, maybe?"

Grace bounced out of her seat. "I can't believe this! _Yes!_" she squealed. "I have to go tell Adrian!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben stood outside the Juergens' front door with his arms loaded down with bags and boxes. He maneuvered to the side and hit the doorbell with his elbow then proceeded to lean on the doorframe, hoping that someone would answer as soon as possible. A minute later, just when Ben thought he was about to have to set everything down and knock, the door opened. To his surprise it was not Amy, Ashley, Anne, or even George. "Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same thing," the teenage boy said.

Ben frowned. "Are you one of Ashley's friends?"

"Not exactly." He looked Ben up and down. "I'm a friend of Amy's, actually. Her _boy_friend, to be exact."

Ben felt his mouth open in surprise. "You're Jimmy." He shook his head. "Of course you're Jimmy, I can't believe I didn't recognize you."

"And you are?"

"Ben."

"Ben…as in, the _ex_ Ben?"

"That'd be me."

Jimmy Nash straightened his posture. "Amy's using the bathroom right now. What did you need?"

Ben gave him a look and made a motion with his head to indicate the boxes he was twisting his head to look around. "I just wanted to drop these off…if that's okay with you."

Jimmy pulled back the door hesitantly and stepped aside. "They have a fake tree over there in the-"

"I know." Ben noted that the other boy didn't bother to ask if he needed any help, so he brushed by him and into the living room where he began to unload the gifts under the small tree. Once he was done he stood up and realized Jimmy was standing behind the couch, watching him. He smiled politely. "So, I thought you lived in Palm Springs?"

"I just drove down here to surprise Amy for the weekend, since I can't make it over winter break. I'll be on the East Coast with family."

"Where's Mrs. Juergens?"

"_Ms._ Juergens, actually. She's divorced," Jimmy corrected. "And, she and my father went out. Not on a date or anything, they're old friends."

"Old high school sweethearts," Ben corrected. "Or so I'm told. I guess things didn't work out."

Jimmy shrugged. "All the better for Amy and I, I say. How weird would it be to date your step-sibling?"

At that moment Amy came trotting down the stairs. "Jimmy, I-" She stopped dead when she walked into the living room. "Ben!"

"Hey!" Ben said warmly. He motioned to the gifts. "Merry Christmas. If I'd known you were busy though, I would've picked another time."

Amy shook her head. "No, it's fine." She skirted around the couch and gave Ben a hug. "Thank you! We really appreciate it." She smiled genuinely. "And I'll bring something over for you later." Her face turned red. "After I buy it, that is. I'm sorry, I just haven't got to my shopping yet this year."

"Too busy this year?" Ben asked, eyeing Jimmy.

Jimmy made his way over to Amy and slid his arm around her waist. "Except for my gift," he winked.

Amy blushed. "Well, yeah, I kind of just knew what to get you." She leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled.

Ben coughed awkwardly. "Well, I'd better get going then." He offered his hand to Jimmy. "Nice meeting you."

After a terse beat, Jimmy accepted Ben's hand. "You too."

Ben nodded to Amy. "Tell Ashley and your mom I said hello."

"I will."

Ben turned on his heel and let himself out. As he left he couldn't help but think about Jimmy's hair. He'd seen a few pictures Amy had showed him, but meeting the guy in person was entirely different. His hairstyle reminded him of the one he'd had during his Freshman year, before he'd cut it and started wearing a more thinned out look. But as he got to the limo and opened the back door he tried to push the thought out of his head. "Don't be ridiculous, we don't look anything alike."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Kat!"

Grace spun on her heel and eyed George contemptuously from across the parking lot. "What's _he_ doing here?"

"I asked him to come," Kathleen replied sheepishly.

"Why? I thought this was supposed to be about me and you! Just us today! Why would you invite _him_?"

"He knows a lot about cars."

"Sure he does," Grace bit back acidly

"He really does," Kathleen insisted. "He helped picked out Adrian's convertible."

"How do you know? Did he tell you that?"

"No," Kathleen said calmly. "Cindy did."

"Since when do you talk to Ms. Lee?"

Kathleen frowned. "You don't think I ask for your friends' parents' phone numbers just for kicks, do you?"

"Please tell me that's not where you get your dating advise too."

"_Grace!"_ Kathleen hissed. She opened her mouth to further chastise her daughter when George finally approached and she promptly shut it. Instead, she gave George a hug and scowled at Grace from over his shoulder.

The ex-cheerleader narrowed her eyes and returned an equally fowl expression.

"So what're we looking for?" George asked jovially.

Grace looked her shoulder at the used car lot. The fence was vined with non-blinking Christmas lights and some of the cars even had wreaths attached to the grills to make them stand out among the rest. "I have no idea," she said finally. "I wish my dad was here, he'd know."

"Gra-"

George touched the back of Kathleen's hand and nodded. "I'm sure he would," he agreed quietly. "And I'm sorry he isn't standing here instead of me."

"Me too."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Oh, not again!" Adrian seethed as cries began to slip from the holes on the baby monitor. She smacked her laptop shut a little too harshly and snatched the baby monitor from the table as she got up.

"Someone's in a bad mood," Cindy observed from the kitchen.

Adrian scowled. "Why does everyone keep telling me that?"

Cindy perched forward amusedly and balanced elbows on the counter and her chin in her cupped hands. "What's wrong, _Chica_?"

"I'm just stressed." Adrian jogged into the hallway, heading for her bedroom where Mercy's cries were getting louder.

Cindy followed and hovered in the doorway as Adrian approached the crib. "You know, she's been pretty cranky too lately."

"I've noticed."

"It's probably because she senses the negative energy you're putting out there."

"Ugh, please, don't go all Zen on me."

"Well it's true. When you were little and I was stressed you were always at your worst. I guess children are more sensitive to these things. Why don't you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering me."

"Is it Ben?"

"Ben's not bothering me." When bouncing Mercy didn't work, she took her to the changing table to check her diaper. "Well, at least he's not a catalyst." The diaper was clean, so she grabbed for a binky and attempted to soothe her wailing daughter that way, but Mercy just spit it onto the floor. Adrian growled in frustration.

"And the catalyst would be?"

Adrian stomped by her mother and on into the kitchen where she yanked a bottle out of the fridge and tried to give it to Mercy. The latter refused. Angrily, Adrian threw the bottle into the sink.

Finally Cindy charged into the room and wrested her granddaughter away from Adrian. _"¡Suficiente! Hable conmigo."_

As Mercy's cries faded to a dull whimper in her mother's arms, Adrian slunk into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. "I had a meeting with Mr. Molina on Monday."

"And?"

Adrian walked over to her backpack and pulled out a wad of pamphlets. She brought them back to the couch and threw them onto the cushion beside her. "Look at them."

Cindy sat down and pushed the pamphlets aside. She began to rifle through them carefully. "They're for colleges."

"Yeah."

"NYU, Columbia…"

"He said with the school year almost half over, I should start thinking about colleges so I can begin applying my senior year. And, with my test scores, he thinks I could get into one of those. He gave me pamphlets for all the top law schools in the country."

"That's wonderful, Adrian!"

"No. It's not! Mom, I have a baby! And Ben's a whole year younger than I am. He'll still be in high school when I'm ready for college. If I were to get in, how could I just go off and leave him and our daughter for a year? I sure as hell couldn't take her with me and be a mom. Not to mention, it wouldn't be fair to Ben or Mercy if they're an entire country away from each other."

"Have you talked to Ben about this?"

"No."

"Maybe you should."

"I don't know how to bring this up," she sighed. "What do you say to your boyfriend and the father of your baby in a situation like this? 'Oh, hey, I know things are going great now, but I'm going to have to abandon you with our daughter next year so I can make a better future for myself'? I could also not go, but then I'd be screwing myself over. It's an impossible situation."

Cindy nodded. "Well if you're really serious about you and Ben as a couple, then you need to open up to him about this. Communication is key, Adrian. You can't just continue to internalize all of this and take it out on everyone until you decide what you're going to do."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"What's wrong with you?" Kathleen demanded as soon as they got in the door. "Why were you treating George with such disrespect tonight? I know that my relationship with him hasn't been easy on you, Grace – it hasn't been easy on Amy or Ashley either – but there is no reason to treat him so rudely!"

Grace threw her arms into the air. "Well what do you want me to say? This is the first Christmas I've spent without Dad and here you are trying to spend it all with your new – old – boyfriend slash husband! How do you expect me to act?"

Kathleen looked down guiltily. "I'm sorry, Gracie. I know it's hard for you, that's why I thought car shopping might be a welcome distraction."

"And it was…until you brought George." Grace rubbed her wet eyes with her knuckles. "I just always imagined doing this with you and Dad and it feels like a betrayal."

"George isn't trying to replace your dad."

"I know. Rationally, I know that. But I can't help the way it feels."

"He doesn't have to come again if you don't want him to," Kathleen nodded quietly. "I just thought it would be better if he did. He knows his way around a car; always has. He used to own a junkyard with his cousin when we got married. He got screwed over out of that, which was how he ended up with the furniture store, but still, he knows his stuff. I don't want to perpetuate stereotypes, but I was never really interested in cars, so I'm not as savvy. But-"

"He can come."

Kathleen lifted her head in surprise. "Are you sure?"

Grace sighed. "Look, I'm going to admit that I'm not happy about it, but buying a car is a big deal. And I want to get a _good_ deal. If George knows his stuff, then he can come. I know we've definitely not been seeing eye-to-eye on this George thing, but I don't want either of us to get duped if we can avoid it."

The corners of Kathleen's mouth rose upwards in surprise. "I'm really proud of you, Grace. I'm lucky to have been blessed with a daughter with your maturity. Thank you."

Grace closed her eyes. "Don't thank me yet," she said, trying her best to put a smile on for her mother. "We'll have to wait and see how this car hunting turns out. I make no promises…but I will try."

"That's all I'm asking."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Heather said she'll to Christmas dinner," Ricky said as he walked into the kitchen to find his mother at the table.

Margaret nodded. "That's wonderful. How's she doing?"

"She can't see her feet anymore, she has leg cramps, and she's been suffering from heartburn."

"The 'joys' of pregnancy," Margaret nodded. "Just a few of the reasons I never wanted to be pregnant myself. That and the fact that there were enough parentless children who needed homes instead." Margaret stood up and collected something from atop the microwave. "Oh, Ricky, this came for you."

Ricky lifted his brow as he took the envelope from Margaret. "Isn't today Sunday?"

"It came yesterday but I forgot to give it to you when you got in last night."

Ricky nodded as Margaret left the room. He hadn't really felt like the conversation was over, but as he realized whose name was on the return address, he realized why she'd left: _Nora Underwood_. He carefully turned the envelope over in his hands and began to use his fingernail to tear open the back.

_Dear Ricky:_

_It means more than any dictionary can say that you came all the way over here to spend Thanksgiving with me. I know that took a lot for you to do and I didn't deserve it, but I appreciate it nonetheless. I just wanted to let you that if you ever want to visit me again, I would love that too. I've attached a copy of my AA schedule, just in case. Thank you so much._

_Love,_

_Nora_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"You can tell this one's been in a wreck," George said as he looped around a red Kia.

It was already Monday afternoon and surprisingly windy; a terrible day for used car shopping if there ever was one. Still, she was trying to make the best of it, so she squinted her eyes at the Kia but to no avail; she was utterly dumbfounded. Apart from a layer of dust on the shimmering paint, it looked like a well enough car to her. Not one that she was interested in, but well enough. Without saying anything, she walked up the right side of the vehicle and examined it, trying to spot whatever George had seen that had tipped him off to the alleged wreck.

Kathleen mirrored her daughter's confusion. "How can you tell?"

Grace turned her head slightly to watch as George bent down at the back bumper of the car and motioned for Kathleen to join him. She then turned her head away and pretended to be inspecting the interior of the car through the window, though she was in fact eavesdropping and watching from the driver's side mirror.

"The paint's new," George said, patting the rump of the car near the gas tank.

"Well, yeah, but don't they usually touch up old cars anyway?"

"Places like this buy these things from the auto auctions wrecked and then they put money into fixing them up. Especially the used ones like this, with low mileage, those are the ones that they can resell and make their money off of."

"But what's the tell?"

"New paint's got a certain look. See that?" George rubbed the side of the car. "It's got an orange look." He suddenly stood up and began to walk towards Grace as Kathleen followed him. "You can see it all the way up this side of the car. They've repainted almost the whole thing."

Grace turned her head as George and her mother walked around her and then watched curiously as they stopped in front of the hood. She straightened her posture a bit.

"But see this? This is the original hood; they didn't repaint this. See how it's all faded? It's got some water damage too. That whole back end and side has been repainted. I bet it got rear ended."

As George and Kathleen moved onto the next car, Grace moved to the back of the Kia and bent down to attempt and spot the orange sheen that George had been describing. Try as might, she couldn't seem to discern an orange color or reflection on the red paint. He _sounded_ like he knew what he was talking about, but then again, "He is a good liar." She felt immediately felt guilty for the thought, but it wasn't exactly an invalid point.

"Hey, Grace, what about this one?"

Grace perked up and followed the sound of her mother's voice over to a cerulean 2007 Volkswagen Beetle. "I like the color," she nodded slowly.

"I remember how you used to love slug bugging everyone when you were little," Kathleen laughed.

"You don't want that one," George said, moseying over.

Grace glared. "Why not?"

"It's been in a wreck too."

Grace folded her arms. "Really?"

George seemed to be unfazed by Grace's demeanor. "Yeah, look at the hood."

Grace and her mother turned simultaneously. "What's wrong with it?" the teenager demanded, seeing nothing obvious. It didn't look faded, bent, or paint chipped.

"It's not aligned."

Grace blinked. "It looks aligned to me."

"It's off," he insisted. "Here, feel." George ran his fingers down the edges of the hood and beckoned Grace to do the same.

"What about it?" she asked impatiently when she was done.

"You feel the gap? It's a ledge. Now feel this side," he said, drawing his fingers over the right edge. "You feel that?" he asked when he was done.

"It's aligned," Grace realized. "But how did you know that?"

"I've seen a lot of wrecked cars come through this junkyard I used to own. I've even fixed a few up in my time. It's just something you develop an eye for, that's all." He motioned to the rubber molding. "You see this? This is another give away: there's a fine amount of overspray here, which means it's been repainted."

"I never would've noticed that."

"It's also got that orange look like that Kia back there."

Finally, Grace sighed and gave in. "What do you mean by that?"

George grinned and bent down. "Here, you can see it right here," he said, pointing between the door panel and the front left panel that arched over the tire. George rubbed a circle onto the door, wiping away some dust and dirt. "See that? It looks like an orange."

"It just looks blue to me."

Suddenly it dawned on him: "No! I don't mean the color, I mean the texture! _See?_"

And it immediately became obvious as soon as he'd said it: the texture of the paint that resembled the look of orange rind. In this case, blue orange rind._ "Oh!"_

"See? It's smooth over here," he said, touching the door panel. "But there's a different texture on this side. You can feel it too."

Grace pressed her hand to the rind textured panel, swirled it around, then moved it to the door: the first felt slightly pimpled, while the second was entirely smooth. "I can't believe that," she breathed. "I _never_ would have seen that!"

George shrugged. "You can see a bit of a color difference too, if you look at it in the right light. But, it's something you have to get used to…not to toot my own horn or anything."

Grace nodded slowly. Her head was spinning with all the new information. As George wandered off to the next car, a seafoam colored jeep, Grace caught up with her mom. "I guess I can see why you wanted to bring him along now," she confessed.

Kathleen smiled and wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulders. "It's an enlightening experience, isn't it?"

Grace rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she humbly agreed. "I guess I may have learned a little more the other day if I hadn't wandered off by myself in anger."

Kathleen squeezed Grace's shoulder tenderly. "We're only human."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"He sprang from his sleigh and to his team gave a whistle! Away, away, they all flew, like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight, 'Happy Christmas to all! And to all, a good night!'"

"'T'was the Night Before Christmas'?" Adrian asked, lingering like a ghost in the doorway. "Shouldn't you be reading that to her on, oh, I don't know, _the night before Christmas_?"

Ben closed the book and set it on the counter next to the Dora the Explorer lamp. He turned it off and motioned his hand, shooing Adrian out of the nursery. He shut the door quietly and ushered his girlfriend a few feet down the hall before stopping. "So you're talking _nicely_ to me again? Or is this some kind of trap I should be aware of?"

Adrian's shoulders deflated. "I'm sorry I've been such a bitch lately."

"Is that…" He rubbed his ears with his palms. "Excuse me, I must have misheard. I thought I just heard my girlfriend apologize to me."

"Quit being a dick," she said, half playfully.

"You can dish it but you can't take it?"

"Oh, please, if there's anyone who can't take it-"

Ben pressed the pad of his finger to Adrian's glossy lips. "Not that I'm not happy that you're joking with me again, but what's had you in such a foul mood this week?"

Adrian took her hand out from behind her back and offered the university pamphlets to Ben. "We need to talk."

"This doesn't sound promising."

"I guess that all depends on what we discuss, doesn't it?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Grace kneeled at her bedside and dutifully pressed her hands together, fingers pointed upwards. "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen." She kept her eyes closed a beat after the last word had left her mouth, then she opened them and climbed under her covers.

As Grace rolled over and reached out to turn off the lamp by her beside, she noticed her father's Christmas angel seated beside the lamp in the same place she'd left her since Saturday. Her hand quivered by the knob on the lamp. Finally she withdrew it and threw back her covers. Dressed in her nightgown and stalking feet she carried the angel down through the silent house and into the living room.

It was dark, save for a night light plugged into the wall. Grace allowed her eyes to adjust for a few minutes, then she grabbed the step ladder that was propped up by the ornament boxes that had yet to be put away and unfolded it in front of the tree. She climbed up slowly and carefully balanced her weight against the step ladder once she got to the top, then she leaned it and adjusted the angel on the pointed branch that George had shortened over the weekend.

The blonde climbed back down and replaced the step ladder, then she moved around to the back of the tree and connected the plug from the angel to the dual plug connected to the Christmas lights. She held them in her hand and stepped back until she could get a full view of the tree from her vantage point, then she brushed her thumb against the switch and the tree burst to life, filling the room with dancing rainbows. The latter reflected off the white satin dress her father's angel wore, while the angel's wings and halo glowed white at the top of the tree. Grace sniffed a little and wiped her nose with her sleeve as she stared at the illuminated soft peach face and rosy cheeks smiling back at her.


	17. The Third Time Around

**A/N: **I've written three chapters in just a couple of days. The summer break is already doing wonders for me!

_**Turning Tables**_

**The Third Time Around**

"_Hola,"_ Mr. Molina said brightly as Adrian stepped into his office. He motioned for her to take a seat. "I've got to admit I was a little surprised when I got your message about wanting to set a meeting with me on a Thursday afternoon leading into a three day weekend."

"You didn't have plans already, did you?"

"No, no, nothing like that. What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to your about those college pamphlets you gave me."

"Have you been looking into them?"

Adrian nodded. "Ben and I have been talking about them over the past few weeks. I am a mother and a girlfriend, so I can't just up and leave when my senior year ends."

"Of course."

Adrian pulled out her pamphlet on New York University. "You said NYU has one of the top law programs, didn't you?"

"Yes. Columbia's probably a little bit better but-"

"I was trying to see if they had online programs. Like an online Bachelor's program. I couldn't find much for Columbia, but I did find something called the 'School of Continuing and Professional Studies' for NYU. From what I can tell, they do offer an undergraduate program. It's not as diverse as the one on campus, but it looks like I could get my B.A. online, if I wanted."

"And that's what you're interested in? Doing your B.A. entirely online?"

"I don't know about entirely," she replied hesitantly. "But that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering if you could get me some more information about NYU SCPS and see if it would be possible for me to do a year online and then transfer those credits to NYU."

Mr. Molina nodded contemplatively. "So let me see if I follow: you're thinking about doing a year of courses online while Ben is finishing his senior year and then moving to New York to attend the university on campus?"

Adrian lifted her hands. "It's only one idea that's been brought up. I don't know yet. I know that leaving Ben and our daughter is not an option, but moving all the way to New York would be pretty uprooting for him. We haven't talked a lot about his educational plans yet. He's still only a sophomore going on junior; he really isn't sure what he wants to do. So right now we're just looking into all possibilities and I want the ins and outs. Can you help me?"

Mr. Molina nodded. "I'm really proud of you, Adrian. Between you and me, you're one of the brightest people I've had the pleasure of meeting here at Grant and you've come so far in the time I've known you. I commend the way you're handling your education and your family."

"Thank you."

Mr. Molina picked up the pamphlet and tapped it on the edge of his desk. "I'll look into this right away and get back to you sometime next week. In the meantime, don't stop looking into other options. This sounds like it might be a pretty good idea for right now, but you never know."

"I won't." Adrian stood up and held out her hand. "Thank you again. The support and advice you've provided me – and Ben – has been immeasurable. I don't know where we'd be if we'd had another counselor."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Grace wandered down the frozen food aisle with a hopeful gleam in her silver eyes. As she got to the end she bent down and began to look at the bottom rows before spotting a familiar red and white tub of ice cream with the word_ Peppermint_ smeared across the front. There were only two tubs left under the clearance tag and Grace patted her hands together excitedly.

"Grace?"

Grace jumped at the sound of Jason's voice. "Hey!" she smiled with the freezer door half open. "What are you doing here?"

Jason walked over to her and pointed to the red and white tubs. "Dreyer's Limited Edition Peppermint Ice Cream," he said sheepishly. "Don't tell me that's what you're here for too?"

"It always goes on sale after Christmas," Grace replied.

"Yeah. It's kind of a favorite in my house."

Grace nodded. "Tom doesn't like it – he prefers anything with chocolate in it – but my mom and I get it every year."

"Looks like there's only two tubs left until next year."

Grace frowned a little. "Why don't you take them?" she sighed, trying not to show her disappointment.

Jason bent down and pulled the tubs out of the freezer. "I've got a better idea." He held one out to her. "Why don't we split the difference?"

Grace smiled again. "Sounds good to me!" They began to walk down the aisle with each other.

"So what've you been up to lately?" Jason asked casually. "Are you still with Grant?"

Grace shook her head. "Oh no. That's over. It's been over for a while now, actually. It didn't end very well."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I didn't know," Jason replied. "There seems to be a lot of that going around lately."

"What do you mean?"

"My parents," he shrugged. "They're getting a divorce."

"What? Oh, Jason, I'm so sorry!" As they reached the line for the checkout she suddenly cocked her head. "Wait, I thought your parents were already divorced?"

"My biological parents are," he clarified. "I meant my mom and my step-dad. He's a bit of a dork, but he's been in my life a long time, so I consider him a parent as well."

Grace nodded. "Oh. Well, still, I'm sorry. That's tough. What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, they just fell out of love I guess. No infidelity or anything. It's just been a slow progression of bickering and unpleasantness for a while now. They've tried to keep Lauren and I out of it, but it's hard not to be in bed at night and hear them arguing downstairs."

"When did you find out?"

"Last week."

"During Christmas vacation?" Grace asked, aghast.

"They weren't planning to tell us then because they didn't want to ruin the holiday for us, but Lauren overheard one of their arguments and called them out on it so they just decided to come clean."

"I'm so sorry!"

"It's not your fault." He pulled out his wallet as they approached the cashier and they both set their tubs of ice cream on the conveyer belt. "Sometimes people just aren't meant to be together, that's all."

"I know the feeling."

"Cash or credit?" the cashier asked as he began to ring up Jason's purchase.

"Debit." Suddenly he grabbed the plastic separator that Grace had put between their tubs and pushed Grace's towards the cashier. "This one too, but in a separate bag please."

"Jason-"

"I got it," he winked dismissively.

"You don't have to do that, I have my own money."

"I _want _to. It's a gift. A gift for a friend. We are still friends, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Great, then it's settled." He nodded to the cashier and waited until the man had rung up his purchase, then he slid his debit card and punched in his pin. When the transaction was finally approved he handed Grace the bag with her ice cream and then snatched up his own.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"Where are you off to now?"

"Home. My mom hates melted ice cream," Jason laughed.

"Oh, right. Silly me," Grace laughed embarrassedly.

As they stepped outside the automatic doors, Jason suddenly turned to Grace. "What're your plans tonight?"

"For?"

"Ringing in the New York?" Jason laughed.

"Oh, _right!_" Grace smacked her palm to her forehead. "I – I don't know. My mom and George got invited to a party at Tammy's parents' house. She's a friend of Tom's. I was invited too, but I didn't really want to go. I'll probably just stay home and watch the ball drop on television."

"That's a little anticlimactic."

"Yeah, well, me and Martinelli's make a good pair."

"As in p-e-a-r?" Jason joked.

Grace giggled. "No, I like the apple cider. Not that pear isn't good, it's just not _as _good."

"Agreed." They arrived at Jason's car and he unlocked the trunk and dropped his ice cream into the back. "Are you here with someone?" he asked.

"I took the bus."

"Oh." Jason tapped his chin. "You want a ride back home then?"

"Oh," Grace shook her head. "I don't want to put you out of your way."

"Nonsense! C'mon, we can catch up on the way, what d'ya say?"

Grace wavered on the balls of her feet before finally giving into his toothy white smile. "All right!"

"Great!" Jason took her bag and set it beside his in the trunk and shut it with a thud. After they both got into the car he slid the key into the ignition and then turned to Grace with a gleam in his brown eyes. "I'm really glad I ran into you today."

Grace settled into the seat and couldn't help but smile back, it was infectious. "Yeah, me too."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"You okay?" Ricky said as his car sat at a red light. He was looking over at Heather in his passenger seat who was hunched over with her arms wrapped around her very swollen belly.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Heather mumbled dismissively. Her head was practically between her knees. "It's just Braxton Hicks."

"Those are the fake contractions, right?"

"They're uterine contractions. You have them roughly three weeks into pregnancy, but you don't actually begin to feel them until late pregnancy. Sometimes they can be so bad that they actually feel like real labor, hence the scenes in movies where women go running to the hospital over and over only for it to be a false alarm."

"So you're okay then?"

"Yeah, I'm not even due until February."

"Adrian went into labor before she was due. Months before she was due, actually."

"She told me that was caused by extreme stress."

"You're sixteen, pregnant, juggling school, work, and trying to pay rent all at the same time. Oh, and handle an adoption."

"Point taken. But still, I don't think this is labor, but thanks for the concern."

"Just let me know if you do start to think so. You don't look too good."

"_Thanks,"_ she replied sarcastically.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know! I'm just screwing with you." Heather finally sat up, seeming to have recovered from her latest bought of Braxton Hicks, and punched Ricky in his upper arm. "Speaking of screwing around, you're not in the mood are you? I hear a little hanky panky can induce labor and I am _so_ ready to have this baby out of me."

Ricky rolled his eyes. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid I have to decline. I don't want to be responsible for a premature birth, thanks."

"Oh poo."

"Besides, I think you're dreading the birth."

"Well _yeah!_ Labor is one of the most painful things a human body – female or male – can endure without passing out. Of course I'm freaked the fuck out!"

"I don't mean about the birth itself. I mean about what happens after."

Heather sobered a little. "You mean handing over my daughter to her parents."

"I know this is going to sound contradictory coming from a guy who has denounced his biological parents, but you are definitely her parent too. Unlike Bob, you truly love your daughter, Heather. That's why you're giving her life and giving her up at the same time in the first place. If that doesn't make a parent, I don't know what does."

Heather rubbed her belly. "Are you sure you don't want to make out?" she asked jokingly. "Your sentimental side is really turning me on right now."

"I'm on a break from sexual activity right now. But hey, whenever I'm back in the game and you're not pregnant anymore, maybe we can talk?"

Heather punched his arm again. "Such a three-sixty from that day I first spoke to you in the hallway. And just FYI, I'm going to hold you to that, Underwood."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I'm not trying to nag, Ben, but have you really never thought about what you want to do when you're out of high school?"

Ben was on his bed with his hands clasped behind the back of his head, staring aimlessly at the swirls or white paint on the ceiling. "College has always seemed like a lifetime away. I guess I know in my head that four years of high school isn't a long time, but it's long enough that I could put it off for at least three of them."

"But you're a father now. You can't put off your future anymore. It's right here. Mercy is our future. We have to think about what's best for her." Adrian climbed onto the bed beside him and rested her face on the edge of his pillow. "And us."

Ben turned his head so he was lying face-to-face with Adrian, their noses nearly touching. "I know," he said, deflated.

"I get that it's not easy to find something you want to do for the rest of your life. When I was still a freshman I knew that I would go to college, but I had no idea what I wanted to do back then. It wasn't until everything that happened last year that I had an epiphany about family law. So don't think that I don't understand what you're feeling right now, I _do_. But please try to see it from my point of view too, okay?"

Ben unwound one of his hands from under his hand and tangled it into Adrian's black strands. He stroked the edge of her ear for a time and then traced her jaw line. "I understand what you're saying, but it doesn't make it any easier. I guess in the back of my mind I always sort of figured I'd just take over the family business from my dad or something…even though I've never been interested in butchery. And I guess that's why I work in party planning instead of anything hands on. I'm better with costumer relations than I am with physical labor. But even so, I'm only sixteen. Is that really my calling? Right now it just feels like a job. Not one that I hate, mind you, but I also don't love it in the same way my dad loves his work. I know people do it – make livings off of work they don't love or even hate – but I don't know if _I_ can."

"And I wouldn't want you to do something unless you really want to. That's why I want to go to New York: it's always been my dream to get into a really good school and make something of myself the way my mom and her parents never did."

"I want that for you too."

"But it's New York," Adrian said dismally. "Just think of the expense, for one. I always saw myself living in a dorm, going to school off of the money my mom saved for me and scholarships, should I be so lucky to get any. Mercy was never part of the plan."

"I'll be eighteen then, you'll be nineteen. We could live together."

"But how could we afford it? Would you be going to school too? If so, where? If not, I guess you could be a stay-at-home dad which would eliminate our need for child care expenses, but what about a place to live? New York is so expensive, how could we afford rent, food, and all the expenses of daily living?"

Ben trailed his hand down Adrian's arm and wrung his fingers through Adrian's. "You do realize that my dad owns a multi-million dollar business franchise, don't you?"

Adrian abruptly sat up and glared. "And you realize that I come from a very poor Columbian family, _don't you? _We don't like to ask for handouts. It's a matter of pride and honor, Ben. Maybe to a fault, but it's true. Your father has helped us – especially me – out so much already. How is it fair to ask him to buy us a place in New York? Or to pay our rent and utilities? _Especially_ after you're eighteen! No offense, but you won't be his responsibility anymore and it's not fair to ask that of him after the way he's bent over backwards to accommodate us already."

"I have a trust fund."

Adrian pushed herself up against the head board and folded her arms across her chest. "We're not going to give your father a heart attack just so you can access your trust fund when you're eighteen."

Ben sighed. "There are Boykewich Butchers all over the continental United States, hence the 'franchise' part of the business. I know my dad has more than one in New York. I could transfer from the one here to the one there."

"The money you make right now is hardly enough to put a dent in the kind of rent that living in New York would cost."

"I could see about increasing my hours."

"Even if you did, do you really think that you can support a family of three in the New York economy even if you worked full time? And let me reiterate: we'd still need child support if I'm a full time student and you're working full time."

"You're making this impossible!"

Adrian smacked the head board with the side of her fist. "Because it _is_ impossible!"

"I think we should just talk to my dad."

Adrian threw up her hands and hopped off the bed. She began collecting her jacket, backpack, and purse before moving over to the playpen to collect Mercy.

Ben watched her helplessly. "Adrian, come on!"

"You don't understand, Ben. You've had all this luxury your entire life and you just don't _get it!_"

"Don't go!" Ben pleaded as he got off the bed. "Let's talk about this-"

"That's what we've been doing. For weeks! I thought we were finally getting somewhere but now we've hit a goddamn wall again and I just need some space!"

Ben's face fell as she stormed out of the door with their daughter.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"It's nice to see you girls over here for once," Margaret said as she carried a pitcher of lemonade into the living room.

"Heather was just over here last week for Christmas," Ricky countered.

"But you've never brought over Ashley to visit. Besides, you know what I mean: just to visit, not for extravagant social gatherings." She sat down in an overstuffed chair. "How are your mother and your sister doing, by the way?"

"My mom's not happy at her job," the brunette replied bluntly. "And Amy's…_Amy_."

Margaret dipped her head sympathetically. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"At least we're getting by. We could be worse: homeless, on the streets, whatever."

"What about school?"

"Fine."

"Better than 'fine,'" Ricky corrected. "If you keep it up, I think you're going to make the Honor Roll this year."

"That's wonderful, Ashley!"

Ashley shrugged indifferently. "I'm not doing anything above and beyond what I'd normally do."

"You should be proud of yourself anyway." Margaret turned to Heather. "How about you?"

Heather hesitated. "This year hasn't been so good, for obvious reasons. I spoke with Mr. Molina before break and it looks like I may have to take summer school if I want to avoid repeating my sophomore year. I guess I still have a little time to pull up my grades before the semester's up, but it's looking pretty dim. Especially when I'm due before the school year's up."

"If you need any tutoring, I have plenty of resources that might be useful."

Heather nodded. "Maybe I'll have to come over a little more often then, 'eh Ricky?"

"Don't let her suck you in," Ricky warned, only half joking. "But seriously, Mom. Don't you have other things to be doing?"

"Aw, c'mon, Ricky, I like your mom. She's fun and snappy and tells it like it is." Heather winked at Margaret.

The elder woman laughed. "No, no, that's all right. I can take a hint. I just wanted to say hello to your friends. It's a treat when Ricky actually brings friends over to the house," she laughed. "I'll see you two girls later, hopefully."

"So are we really ringing in the new year with sparkling lemonade?" Heather asked, picking up one of the glass bottles Margaret had brought in. "Seriously, what kind of teenagers are we?"

"We could have an orgy," Ashley said. "I have condoms."

"My mom is in the next room," Ricky deadpanned.

Heather and Ashley exchanged devious looks and laughed at their friend's expense.

"I'm regretting the day I introduced the two of you."

"Oh, all three of us are social misfits. We would've found each other eventually." She suddenly clutched her stomach and scrunched up her eyes.

Ashley's posture stiffened. "Are you okay?"

"Braxton Hicks contractions," Ricky supplied. He got up and moved around the chair Heather was sitting in. He pressed his hands to the redhead's shoulders and slowly began to knead them until the contractions had passed. "Better now?"

Heather grimaced and realized a few tears were fresh on her cheeks. "I think those were the worst ones yet. I hate to imagine what real labor is going to be like."

Ashley leaned forward. "What _is_ it like?" she asked. "The pregnancy and the contractions I mean?"

"Well, I've never actually been constricted by a Boa Constrictor, but I have seen footage on Animal Planet, and I'm pretty positive this is what it's like. Why?"

Ashley leaned back again. "Just reaffirming my belief that I never want to have children, that's all."

"See? That's Honor Roll thinking right there!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"What do you think?" Grace asked, walking around a shiny Toyota Prius that matched the color of her eyes.

Jason swirled his spoon around in a bowl of partially melted Dreyer's Peppermint Ice Cream as he walked around the car. "It's nice," he nodded. "Hybrid?"

"Yep! So it's cheaper and better for the environment. I think my mom might also get some kind of tax credit or something for going hybrid too."

"Sweet! What year?"

"It's a two-thousand-nine. My mom was going to get me a used car, but I guess George found a really good end-of-the-year sale. They were trying to move out this year's models to make room for the two-thousand-tens and so I guess they went down there and George did some wheeling and dealing with them to get my mom a really good deal. She wouldn't tell me how much, but I suspect it was probably quite a bit more than she was originally intending. But I guess she used the money my dad left us and figured that as long as I was getting a good, safe car, it was a good investment."

"I'm jealous," Jason said. "My dad wanted to buy me a car when I was sixteen, but my mom insisted that I should have to pay half. I'm _still_ making payments on it. I probably will be for a few more years."

"Your mom sounds tough."

"That's putting it lightly." As they walked back in from the garage Jason checked his watch. "Whoa, I didn't realize how long I've been here. It's almost seven!"

"No way! I'm sorry, am I keeping you?"

Jason shook his head. "No, not at all. It's been a nice escape, actually." He slid the last scoop of ice cream into his mouth and then went to rinse his bowl out in Grace's sink. "You know, I was invited to a New Years Eve party tonight, if you're interested."

Grace crinkled her brow. "A party? Where?"

"One of the guys on the football team is hosting it."

Grace fidgeted while Jason got his tub of ice cream out of her freezer. "I dunno…"

"It'll be fun…" He edged.

Grace chewed the edge of her bottom lip. "Let me call my mom and see if it's okay," she finally relented.

Jason nodded. "Good idea."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I tried to call Grace but she's not answering," Adrian complained. She was seated on one of the bar stools that had been placed at the kitchen counter.

Cindy was in the kitchen intermittently pressing buttons on the blender which was crushing up a white frozen mixture. "You don't have to be so hard on Ben you know."

"I'm not trying to be. It just frustrates so much that he doesn't understand."

"Being wealthy is the only thing he's ever known."

"That's the problem."

"On the other hand, you should also try to understand that it is okay to accept help now and then."

"I know that! And I have. I'm very grateful to Mr. Boykewich for all he's done, but, still…how would you feel if you were in my position?"

Cindy took her finger off the blender button and remained quiet. She grabbed one tall glass and poured it full with the icy white mix and then she added some light rum to the mix that remained in the blender. She pressed a few more buttons and then filled another glass identical to the first. Afterwards she added a piece of slice pineapple to the rim of each glass and topped the drinks with some coconut shavings and a maraschino cherry each. "Here you are," she said finally. "One virgin piña colada." She then sat down on the stool beside Adrian's and took a sip of the second drink. "_Mmm._ And one _not_-so-virgin."

Adrian sipped her drink aimlessly. "Maybe I should've had you make me one of those instead."

Cindy merely smiled. "So I guess it'll just be us girls then?" she said, glancing across the room to the playpen where Mercy was sitting.

"I guess." Adrian got up and walked over to the playpen to gaze at her daughter.

Mercy had pulled herself onto her feet and was holding herself up with the edge of the playpen. She had a slobbery grin on her chubby face and was holding her bottle clenched in one fist.

Cindy followed Adrian over. "Three generations of Lee women. I can't think of anyone I'd want to celebrate the New Year with more."

Adrian sighed and held up her glass. "I'll drink to that."

Cindy clinked her glass to her daughter's and then noticed that Mercy was staring at them and began to wave her bottle up and down. She laughed and reached down to clink her glass to Mercy's bottle.

Adrian couldn't resist smiling at the scene and she, too, bent down to share in the toast.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The alarm clock read _11:01 P.M._ "Hey, I'm glad I got a hold of you," Ben spoke into his cell phone. "Do you guys want to come over?" He could hear the sound of Alice's laughter in the background.

"Uh, sorry Ben, but Alice and I have plans…"

"Oh."

"I thought you were spending New Years Eve with Adrian anyway?"

"We had a fight," Ben said glumly.

"Well – what about your dad?"

"He's out with Camille."

"Sorry man, I don't know what to – _Alice!_ O-o-oh! Geeze! Man, sorry, I gotta go. See you Monday!"

Ben heard the line go silent and looked at the screen to see that the call had ended. He dropped his phone onto his pillow and fell back onto his mattress. "Happy New Year to me."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"We've missed you at the games."

"Aw, well, it looks like the other cheerleaders have been plenty good without me this year because you've been on a winning streak," Grace replied. "But I still pray for the team every night!" she winked. "This is a great party, by the way!"

"Catching up?" Jason asked, walking up behind Grace and his fellow teammate. He handed Grace a red plastic cup. "I got you some punch. Not spiked, I promise!" he joked, elbowing the footballer in front of him.

"Thank you, Jason!" Grace cheerfully took a sip and smacked her lips. "Mmm. Did you use sherbet in this?"

"I'm not sure," Calvin, the party host, admitted. "My girlfriend made it."

Grace nodded. "Tell her I'd love the recipe if she doesn't mind."

"Will do."

"Hey everyone, three minutes 'til the New Year!"

Grace looked up at the sound of the shouting voice and saw another football player at the top of the stairs. She wrinkled her nose a bit and leaned close to Jason. "I think someone might've snuck a little something into the party."

"It wouldn't be a teenage party if they didn't."

Grace shook her head. "I just don't see the point in needing alcohol to have a good time. Not to mention the hangovers afterwards hold absolutely no appeal to me."

"Hey," Calvin said, laying a hand on Grace's arm. "It was good seeing you again. But I'm going to go find Jessica now."

Grace nodded. "See you on Sunday!" she called merrily after him. She spun around to face Jason. "I'm really glad you talked me into this," she smiled. "I've had a surprising amount of fun. I even saw Jack and Shawna!"

"Shawna? I thought she broke things off with him?"

"Yeah, but they're still friends and he's still mentoring her brother, so she agreed to come with him tonight. Very pretty girl," Grace nodded. "She seems pretty intelligent too. No wonder she caught Jack's eye."

"No wonder she broke things off with him," Jason joked.

Suddenly a rumble broke out all around them and the crowd was simultaneously chanting: "Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two!"

"Happy New Y–" Grace was cut off mid sentence as Jason's mouth molded to her own. She felt her eyes instinctively close and before she realized what she was doing, her body was responding to the kiss. Then it was over and when she could see again, everyone was cheering, blowing party whistles, and throwing confetti. Nobody was even paying attention to her, except for Jason himself.

"I couldn't help but notice you seem to like guys who aren't afraid to make the first move. I guess that was my mistake. Maybe the third time could be the charm. What do you say, Grace Bowman? What do you say to making my New Year the happiest yet?"


	18. Let's Lie That Again

**A/N: **Writing this chapter was a bit of a release for me because I'm going to address something in it that has infuriated me ever since Ricky became Valedictorian on the show. (Seriously? Valedictorian? WTF!)

_**Turning Tables**_

**Let's Lie That Again**

Adrian turned the corner of the hallway and spotted her best friend at her locker, laughing and giggling with Jason, though she was much too far away to hear what was responsible for said laughter. She cracked a smile and patiently waited until Jason had left before approaching the blonde. "Well look at you Little Miss I-won't-date-Jason-because-it's-too-soon-after-Grant."

Grace turned red faced. "I can admit when I'm wrong!" she yelped in defense. "Unlike _some_ people."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Adrian arched her left brow.

"You're smart, you figure that one out,_ friend_."

"Ben's not right about this," Adrian said defiantly. Then she folded her arms and turned away. "But I'm not going to discuss this in the middle of the school hallway."

"Just saying," Grace said, shutting her locker door. She smoothed the denim skirt she was wearing. It had been the same one she'd worn on the first day of class her sophomore year.

"Did you break that out special for your new lover boy?" Adrian asked, trying to deflect the conversation away from her and Ben's issues. "You can't possibly be warm in that in the middle of January!"

Grace began to walk briskly through the dense sea of her peers. "You know nothing!"

Adrian smirked. "You don't need to dress up for him you know. The boy obviously liked you before you dug that out of the back of your closet."

"And maybe I'm not dressing up for anyone other than myself," the blonde retorted. "I _like _this skirt. Get over it!"

"Whatever you say, Gracie." Adrian switched her purse to her other shoulder. "Hey, I have to go meet with one of my teachers before class, so I'll catch you at lunch, all right?"

"Sounds good," Grace nodded. She watched her friend disappear up the stairs and then continued down the hallway, not really sure what she wanted to do or where she wanted to go before class. Everything was feeling light and airy to her and all she could think about was seeing and spending time with Jason again. She had to actively tell herself not to get too sucked in again. It had happened with Jack and ended horribly. It had almost happened with Ricky. And Grant had by far been the worst of them all. She didn't think she could take that again.

"Grace?"

The latter was jerked from her thoughts by Griffin's voice. "H – hey," she said nervously. She'd almost forgotten that Griffin went to her school until just then.

Griffin smiled uneasily. "I know this is really late, but I'm sorry about you and Grant."

Grace nodded. "Me too."

"For what it's worth, I don't hold anything against you. Grant can get a little…_over eager_."

"Yeah." She was crying out inside to expand on that, but given who she was talking too, she felt that it would be wildly inappropriate.

"I just wanted to make sure there's no hard feelings. I really did enjoy the few times the three of us hung out. You're good company."

"You too," Grace said sincerely.

"Anywho, I just wanted to clear the air. Now that I've done so – and shoved my foot in my mouth in the process – I'm just going to go…" He pointed. "…that way."

Grace reached out to touch his shoulder in the way she'd learn to do at med camp. "Wait! You didn't stick your foot in your mouth, Griffin. You're a good, fun guy and no matter what happened between Grant and I, I don't hold anything against your or anyone else in your family. You all treated me wonderfully and you're still welcome at my church again any time."

Griffin grinned. "I don't know if abstinence speeches are really my thing, but I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Grace!"

Grace watched him walk away and felt her tummy do a little flip flop. Griffin had been fun and she'd liked him a lot. Ditto for Mrs. Costigan and Mr. Volberg. But after everything that has transpired between her and Grant, she wasn't sure if she could ever bring herself to come face-to-face with his parents again. Griffin, she figured, might not be so terrible, if they stuck to just seeing one another at school.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Oh look, it's that time of year again," Ashley announced sarcastically. The poster for Grant High's annual Father-Daughter Dance was posted on the bulletin board along with a few abstinence posters and a couple of job advertisements.

"You're not going to go I take it?"

"My dad took Amy last year. He'll probably want to take both of us this year but I have no intention of going with him. I think it's kind of stupid anyway. Why don't they have Mother-Son Dances too?"

"Because guys would never go?"

"Some probably would, but not all. Maybe even not most. Just as not all girls will go to these stupid things either," Ashley retorted, using her hand to indicate herself.

"I think that John Travolta movie comes out that weekend if you want to skip the dance scene."

"_From Paris with Love_?" Ashley asked skeptically. "I'm not really a John Travolta fan. Not after the horror that was _Look Who's Talking_."

"Well it's either that or _Dear John_ and I didn't think you were much of a romantic movie fan."

"John Travolta it is."

"I thought so."

"It's too bad _The Crazies_ doesn't come out until the end of February, I was really looking forward to that one."

"You would."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Thanks for ditching with me today, Henry."

"Gotta love an excuse not to be at school." Henry flopped down in Ben's desk chair and began to spin around in circles. "Still fighting with Adrian?"

"We're not so much 'fighting' as we are 'not talking.' Or, more accurately: she's not talking to me."

"Isn't she blowing this a little out of proportion?"

"That's what I said."

"Not to her face, right?" Henry stopped spinning when Ben didn't reply. "Ah, Ben! There's your problem: you can't keep your mouth shut!"

"I know." Ben grabbed his pillow and smacked himself in the face with it. "I'm an idiot!"

"Maybe you should just bring this up to your dad by yourself?"

"Go behind Adrian's back to talk with him about it?"

"Why not?"

"Why not?" Ben echoed. "_Why not?_ Because she'd kill me, that's why not! And I'm sure that would gruesomely murder our sex life too."

"Well, yeah," Henry agreed. "If you're dead, that does put a kink in things." He smiled dorkishly. "See what I did there? A 'kink' in your sex life?" he grinned, nodding like an idiot.

"Yeah, Henry. Necrophilia joke: I got it the first time. And newsflash: I didn't laugh because it wasn't funny."

Henry's expression sobered up. "Yeah, well, it would've been funny if you weren't being so grumpy because you're not getting any."

"You're not either," Ben retorted.

"I'm getting more than you are right now."

Ben waved his hand. "Look, that's not why I asked you to come over today. I wanted to talk."

"About?"

"You've known me longer than anybody, except my dad and Alice. I want to know what you think I'm good at. What do you think I could do with my life? Maybe if I can figure that out then it'll help Adrian and I figure out what our options are."

"Well you're a good listener."

"Yeah," Ben agreed. "That's why I'm working in customer service right now. But I don't want to do that my entire life. So what does being a 'good listener' translate to professionally?"

Henry shrugged. "I guess you could be a shrink like Alice's parents? Or a counselor like that Mr. Molina."

Ben pressed his thumb to his lip. "You know, I never thought of that. But maybe I could? And Adrian wants to go into family law. A counselor and a lawyer? Those are compatible, aren't they?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Ricky, are you aware of why I've called you in to speak with me today?" Mr. Molina questioned.

Ricky paled. "Nobody told me, but I have a pretty good idea."

"I'm very concerned about your marks in English and history," Mr. Molina said as he handed the drummer a printout of his current grades in his classes. "It's nearly the end of the first semester and you have a D in English and you're failing history."

"I'm aware of that," Ricky sighed.

"They're a far cry from the grades you've had in history and English in the last two years," Mr. Molina frowned. "Even with everything that occurred with Adrian and the pregnancy last year. Is there something going on this year that's affecting your performance?"

Ricky shrugged. "Just stress, I guess," he lied.

"Anything you'd like to get off your chest?"

"It's personal. It's – no-nothing. I really have no valid excuse for my behavior. I guess I've just been stressed and slacking off this year."

Mr. Molina didn't look convinced, though he didn't press the matter. "Alright, well, I wanted to let you know that if you're unable to raise your grades by the end of January – which likely means passing your midterms with A's – then you'll probably be looking at summer school for one or both of these courses."

"Thanks for letting me know," Ricky said quietly.

"If there's anything I can do to help, definitely let me know. That's what I'm here for, Ricky. I can see about setting you up with a tutor if you need one."

Ricky quickly shook his head. "No! No thanks. I mean, I know what I need to do. I just need to sit down, stop screwing around, and focus."

"All right then. I'd like to see you again in a week to see what's going on, okay?"

"Sure."

"And once again, don't hesitate to contact me if you need anything."

"I won't. Thank you." Ricky pulled his bag off the floor and got out of the counseling office as fast as he could. He darted down the hallway and escaped into the boys' bathroom and locked himself into a stall. His hand was shaking as he looked down at the grades on the sheet Mr. Molina had given him: he had an A and a B in chemistry and algebra II respectively, but the D and the F scowled at him from the page. He closed his eyes.

"_Hey, Joe, aren't you kind of an expert on Leonardo da Vinci?"_

"_I'm an expert on a lot of things," Joe Hampton said on the first day of sophomore year, speaking with a recognizable lisp._

"_I hear the first report up in history is on the-"_

"_Yeah, da Vinci's war machines. Oh, sorry, but you're too late: I'm already under contract to the football team."_

"_So? You can still help me out, buddy."_

"_No, I can't. It's exclusive this year."_

Ricky kicked the toilet bowl. "How could you be so fucking stupid?" he swore at himself.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"So you and Lauren's brother, huh?" Madison Cooperstein asked. She seated her lunch tray across from Grace's and promptly sat down in front of her.

Grace looked a little surprised and checked over her shoulder but didn't see Lauren or Amy. "Uh, yeah," she squeaked. "I guess so."

Madison rolled a tangerine around on her tray. "That's _nice_."

Grace closed her mouth, knowing that the redhead had nursed a crush on Jason for quite some time. "And how about you?" she asked pleasantly. "Any new guys in your life?"

"Nope. Not since Jack."

"I'm sorry." The blonde sipped her chocolate milk. "Um…where're Amy and Lauren?"

"Mrs. Doonan gave them lunch detention because she caught Lauren passing a note to Amy. The woman's got a major chip on her shoulder." Madison looked around. "Where's Jason?"

"Oh, uh, he said he had a makeup quiz in history during lunch. I'm sure it shouldn't take him too much longer."

"You don't mind if I eat with you, do you?" Madison asked, batting her eyelashes. "Since Amy and Lauren aren't around, I mean?"

Grace shrugged. "Sure, of course not," she replied with her trademark smile, though it was marred with an uncomfortable undertone. As much as she hated to think the worst of people, she had a burning suspicion that Madison's intentions about sitting with her – and eventually Jason, whenever he showed up – weren't as pure as she was making them out to be.

"So are you going to med camp again this summer?"

"As far as I know."

"So you'll be there with your new boyfriend and your ex-boyfriend?"

Grace's stomach churned at the idea. "I guess if Grant decides to go again, then yes."

"Hm," Madison murmured. "Sounds like a love triangle in the making to me."

Grace adamantly shook her head. "There's absolutely no chance of Grant and I getting back together," she vowed. "We're completely, totally, one-hundred percent _over_."

Madison just dug her nails into her tangerine rind and smiled, barring her all of her porcelain teeth.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I just had this car washed you know." Adrian strode up to her lipstick red convertible as Ricky clamored up from leaning against the side of it. "What are you doing lounging on my car anyway?"

Ricky squirmed under her gaze. "Hey, uh, I hate to ask, but I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."

"What now?" She punched the button to deactivation the alarm as she rounded the back of the car to the driver's side door.

Ricky grabbed the passenger door and climbed inside.

"Just help yourself why don't you."

"I can't talk about this in public."

Adrian paused with her key halfway into the ignition. "Talk about what? Are you in some kind of trouble?" She looked around briefly and then hit the automatic locks.

"Kind of," Ricky admitted quietly.

Adrian looked at him seriously. "What did you do?"

"It wasn't something I did recently," Ricky explained. "It was something I did last year. And the year before that. And in middle school."

"And it's only _now_ catching up with you?"

"Yeah."

"_Explain."_

"You know Joe, right?"

"Hampton?"

"Sure. What about him?"

Ricky looked away from her face. "Well he used to 'help' me in areas I wasn't so hot in. Like English and history."

"'Help' you? As in…forge papers for you?"

"It's not something I'm proud of."

"Yeah, it's not something you should be proud of! I've worked my ass off to earn my grades to get where I am, Ricky. I can't believe you've just skated by on Joe's smarts for two years."

"It was off-and-on in middle school and pretty much all of my freshman year," Ricky corrected. "Last year wasn't him."

"Then who was it?"

Ricky pressed his hand to his forehead. "I don't remember."

Adrian covered her mouth in realization. "You don't mean to tell me you were sleeping with girls so you could con them into writing papers for you, do you?" When he didn't say anything, she punched the steering wheel in disgust. "I cannot believe you! No, strike that. I can! What the fuck, Ricky!"

"I haven't done it this year!" Ricky hissed. "That's why I'm coming to you now. I need your help! I found out I might be in danger of failing English and history and I can't explain to anyone else why I was so good before and I'm suddenly not now. They wouldn't understand."

"_I_ don't understand!"

"_Please,_ Adrian? I'm not that guy anymore. That's why I didn't go to Joe this year. I was trying to earn my grades myself. But Mr. Molina said that if I don't pull my grades up I'm going to have to take summer school."

"Maybe you should."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Maybe I should. But I'm choosing to ask you for help first. I know you tutored Ashley in English and she ended up passing. I know you're brilliant."

"Don't try and butter me up, Ricky. I have a lot on my plate right now."

"Just this once? Please?"

Adrian covered her mouth with her fingers. The look on his face made something deep in her chest split open. She really wanted to tell him to go screw himself, that he earned summer school for cheating in his classes, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do so. "You don't deserve my help," she finally told him and watched his face fall. "But," she added, "I'm going to give it to you anyway because I've fucked up enough over the last few years myself. That said, if I'm going to do this, it's going to be on _my_ terms and you're going to have to bend around _me_."

"Agreed."

Adrian dropped her head back against the headrest. "If you want to come over to my place after school, say around five or six, we can work on your stuff then."

"I can do that."

"Good."

"And Adrian?"

"Don't even say it," she said, holding up her hand. "All I care about is you passing your classes. That's it."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Hey, honey, how was school?" Kathleen asked when her daughter walked through the kitchen door.

Grace dropped her backpack on the kitchen table and broke a banana off of the bunch from the fruit bowl. "I was wondering if we could do a little driving practice right now?"

"Oh, well, I was kind of waiting on George to finish moving in some furniture in the guest house-" But in response to the look she saw forming on her daughter's face she shook her head. "But I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we drove around the block a few times."

"I was actually hoping we could do a little freeway driving."

"I thought that made you uncomfortable?"

"Which is why I'd like to practice it." Grace chewed a bite of her banana while she waited for her mother to agree. Once Kathleen had given in she polished off the rest of her snack and tossed the McDonald's yellow peel into the trash. "Great! Just let me go grab my permit."

Kathleen followed Grace up the stairs. "You have all your required hours in. Are you feeling nervous about the actual test next week?"

"Who isn't nervous about their first driver's test?"

"They won't take you on the freeway."

"I know. I just want to get as much driving time in as possible between now and the test, even if it won't be on the test. It can't hurt, can it?"

"I guess not."

"Good." Grace retrieved her driver's permit from her jewelry box and waved it at her mother. "Let's go!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"NYU has a Master's program for counseling," Ben said. He was seated at his desk with his laptop turned on to a page from the University of New York's Steinhardt School of Culture, Education, and Human Development. He maneuvered his mouse up to the corner of the screen, went through the print preview options, and finally commanded a printout of the frequently asked questions section of the site.

"Hey!" Henry blurted out. "Don't some colleges offer daycare services on campus?"

"I hadn't thought of that, but I think you might be right," Ben said brightly. "Lemme check. If they do though, it'd probably cost a pretty penny."

"Maybe your dad could just provide free daycare for a year as your graduation gift?"

"I'm not so sure Adrian would like that."

"It's just a suggestion."

Ben clicked his mouse around a few times and then frowned. "NYU doesn't offer a daycare program," he sighed. "But they do have a resource page on child care. Egh."

"What?"

"They say the average cost of childcare in New York City is twelve-hundred dollars, but if you're seeking care for an infant or toddler, it's more like fourteen-hundred."

"Well that's only like a little over a hundred dollars a month or something, isn't it? You make more than that a month working at the butcher shop, right?"

"No, Henry, fourteen-hundred dollars _a month_, not a year."

Henry bolted up from Ben's bed. "Damn, Ben!"

"I know."

"That's highway robbery!"

"That's parenthood."

"How much does your dad pay your nanny right now?"

"I have no idea, I've never asked."

"Maybe your nanny could just move out to New York with you, huh?"

"Someone would still have to pay her. Plus take care of her room and boarding costs, that is, _if_ she was even willing to do that." Ben pulled up a new Google search box. "After looking at the child care costs, I shudder to think what rent costs must be like up there." He typed in _New York City Apartments _and clicked on the website. After entering in his search criteria he sat back as the page loaded. "Damn!"

"What?"

"The cheapest two bedroom housing near campus has only one bathroom and is six-hundred-seventy-five a month. Add that to the child care expenses and that's already twenty-seventy-five a month, not even counting utilities, food, and gas."

"Or diapers," Henry added.

"I never realized how expensive it is to be an adult. And a parent." Ben spun around in his chair to face his friend. "You have no idea how much I envy your ability to be carefree right now. All you have to worry about is getting your homework done and getting good grades for at least another year."

"I can't believe I'm hearing you say this right now," Henry laughed. "Because I've always thought you – being born with that silver spoon in your mouth – had it the easiest of anyone I've ever known." His phone began to ring. "That's Alice," he said, flipping it open. "Hey, you on your way over here?"

Ben looked at his friend expectantly and the latter gave him a thumb's up. He rotated back to his computer screen and stared at the apartment ad; it didn't even have a picture of the place it was advertising on it. He rubbed his forehead and closed his laptop in frustration.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Thanks for taking me out," Grace said, dropping her mother's keys on the island countertop.

"I think your lane changing has improved quite a bit since you took that driver's prep course."

"I think it really helped out my parallel parking skills. I mean, I still would rather like to avoid parallel parking if I can, but now I know that I can at least do it if I have to." Grace washed her hands at the sink and then opened the refrigerator door in search of a carton of eggs.

"I'm going to go see how George is doing in the guest house," Kathleen said. "Did you need anything before I go?"

Grace shook her head and proceeded to pull down the oatmeal, flour, sugars, and butterscotch chips from the cupboards. While hunting down the measuring cups and spoons she heard the doorbell and quickly dusted off her hands on her denim skirt and trotted out to the front door. Upon opening it she found Jason on the other side. "Hey!"

"Hey," he responded easily. "I know you're most likely busy, but I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe catch a movie or hit the Dairy Shack or something? But only if I'm not keeping you from your studies."

"Actually," Grace giggled, "I was just getting ready to make some butterscotch oatmeal cookies. You wouldn't want to help out, would you?"

Jason pressed his hand to his stomach. "Butterscotch oatmeal you say? I can feel my stomach rumbling already!"

Grace eagerly grabbed him by the hand and pulled him inside. "Have you ever had them before?"

"Nope!"

"They're my grandmother's recipe, God rest her soul. But they're irresistible!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ricky tapped his knuckles against the front door of Adrian's condo and waited. It felt strange standing there again since it had been so long since he'd been at Adrian's home. Everything still looked the same and he could almost pretend that it was a year ago, back when he there was still hope for him being with Adrian.

The door opened and Cindy was standing there with her coat slung over one arm, her purse in her hand, and her other hand clutched around the handle of her luggage. "Ricky!" she said in surprise. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Adrian was supposed to help me with something after school," he explained vaguely.

Cindy just nodded. "Well she's in her room right now, studying last I saw. Just make yourself at home," she nodded, pulling her luggage case by him. "I'm sorry for rushing out like this, but I got called in to cover someone at the last minute so I have to leave immediately."

"Have a safe trip."

"Thanks!" she called back as she dashed off down the corridor.

Ricky stepped into the apartment which was oddly silent. It still looked exactly as he remembered, save for some of the baby toys in the living room. He closed the door and slowly made his way down to Adrian's room. "Adrian?" he called to the closed door. "Hello?" When there was no answer he twisted the door handle and pushed it slightly, peeking in through the crack. He could see Adrian lying on her bed surrounded by notes and school books, though she appeared to be sleeping.

As quietly as he could he pushed the door open a little more and squeezed inside. "Adrian?" When she didn't so much as stir he debated on whether or not to wake her. Then he noticed a pair of wide, brown eyes staring at him and turned his head to see Mercy holding herself up against the edge of her playpen. He smiled at her and lightly waved his hand.

Mercy lifted her hand and flapped her fingers up and down, attempting to mimic Ricky's wave. Suddenly she let go of the edge of the playpen and fell back on her bum, landing on a stuffed pink rabbit. She grabbed a teddy bear and waved it in the air, making cooing noises.

Ricky moved to the crib and bent over the edge, watching the baby. "Whatcha got there?" he asked softly.

Mercy pushed her teddy bear up towards Ricky and made a noise that didn't sound much different than a purring cat.

"Is that for me?" Ricky asked, reaching his hand down.

The baby pushed the bear into Ricky's hand and giggled. She began to bounce up and down on her stuffed rabbit and emit loud cooing sounds.

"Sh sh sh!" Ricky whispered, pressing his finger to his lips. "Your mama's trying to sleep!" He looked back and forth between Adrian and Mercy, but the latter's joyful sounds only seemed to get louder. When Adrian began to stir he finally made the kneejerk decision to pick Mercy up from her playpen. "Hey," he suggested, bouncing her in his arms. "Why don't you and me go play out in the living room so your mama can sleep, okay?"

Mercy cooed again and batted at Ricky's face with her hand.

"I will take that as a yes." He tucked Mr. Bear into her arms and carried her out of the room, escaping just as Adrian rolled over and snuggled into her pillow.


	19. The Rhythm Of Strife

**A/N:** I think this just might be the longest chapter so far. Lots of stuff going on.

_**Turning Tables**_

**The Rhythm Of Strife**

"Technically it's our dad's weekend with us, but Ashley wants absolutely nothing to do with the Father-Daughter Dance," Amy said as she threw various garments into her overnight bag.

"So she's just staying here all weekend? Even though your mom's out of town?"

Amy shrugged. "Dad wanted her to stay at his apartment, but she was fighting him tooth and nail about it. I guess he finally gave in because he probably still feels guilty about dating Kathleen. He's been giving in a lot lately if we argue with him about things."

"That's –" Ben mused over the right way to describe what he was thinking "– good for you two I guess."

"It'd still be nicer to have our whole family back together though."

At a loss for words, Ben just nodded. He was sitting on the edge of Amy's bed as she packed when he noticed a sleeveless peach dress hanging on the back of her door. "Is that what you're wearing to the dance?" he asked.

Amy stopped in the middle of what she was doing to follow his line of sight. She blushed. "Yeah."

"It looks familiar."

Amy nodded. "It's the dress I wore when you took me to the carnival last year."

Ben looked away from the dress. "Oh. Yeah, I remember that now."

Amy nodded and resumed packing. "How are things with Adrian?"

"It's difficult. I don't think parenting or relationships are ever easy, are they?"

"I guess not. Uhm, how's Mercy?"

"Great! She gets more beautiful every day!" Ben pulled out his cell phone and brought up a picture of her. "See? I just took this one the other day. She's getting ideas about walking, but she can't seem to stand up without holding herself up on things yet."

Amy zipped up her luggage bag. "How old is she now?"

"She'll be nine months exactly on Thursday!" he said proudly.

"I can't believe it's been that long."

"I know! Her first birthday's just around the corner. My dad's already planning the party. I think it's going to be huge. He's inviting everybody and their brother!" Ben motioned to Amy. "You'll come too, won't you?"

"Oh, yeah," she nodded. "Sure, if you want me there."

"Why wouldn't I want you there?" Ben got off the bed while Amy set her luggage down next to her door. "You can bring Jimmy too, if he happens to show up on a surprise visit again."

"I doubt that."

"Why? Something wrong?"

"No. I just don't think I'll see him again until we go back up there for the summer. _If_ we go back up there for the summer."

"If?"

"Yeah, I heard my parents arguing about my dad wanting us this summer since my mom had Ashley and I in Palm Springs all last summer."

"Maybe it's one of those things you'll have to argue with him about?"

"Maybe." There was a car horn from outside. "And that should be my dad." Amy grabbed her dress and luggage bag and was about to try and balance them when Ben opened the door for her. "Thanks!"

"No problem." He followed her down the stairs and opened the front door for her as well. "Have fun at the dance," he said, walking her up to her dad's car. Ben waved politely to George as Amy stuffed her luggage into the trunk and laid her dress down in the back seat.

"I will. Bye, Ben."

"What's Ben doing here?" George asked as Amy shut the door. 

Ben couldn't make out Amy's reply, but George waved to him, so he figured whatever she said had satisfied him. As they drove away he tossed his keys into the air and caught them in his hand. He'd finally gotten his driver's license just the day before, so his father had allowed him to take one of the older model Cadillacs over to Amy's for his first solo drive.

He climbed into the driver's seat and pulled out his cell phone, speed dialing Henry. After two rings the latter finally answered. "Hey, I've got my dad's Cadillac. You doin' anything right now?"

"I don't think you can drive me anywhere having just got your license yesterday."

"No, I know. I meant, can I come over to your house?"

"Erm…Alice is kind of over right now."

"_Oh."_

"Yeah."

"Well tell her I said hi then…whenever you get done doing what you're doing."

"Sure thing. I'll talk to you later."

Ben shut his phone and tossed it into the passenger seat. He tossed his keys up and down a few more times and then grabbed his phone and dialed Adrian's number.

"Ben?"

"Yeah, it's me. Hey, can we talk?" He heard her sigh on the other end of the line. "We need to talk," he insisted. "We can't just keep up this stalemate. It's making us both miserable. Or at least it's making me miserable. Please, let's talk. I think I might have an solution to our problem."

"And what's that?"

"I want to share it with you in person."

"Okay, fine. Do you want to come over to my place in say…an hour?"

"Why not now?"

"I'm busy right now."

"It's Friday night," he argued.

"And I said I'm busy."

"Doing?"

"Studying."

The line went dead and Ben threw his phone at the floor of the passenger seat in frustration.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I shouldn't be lying to him," Adrian said to Ricky as she slapped her phone down on the table.

"You're not lying, we _are_ studying."

"It's a lie by omission and you know it."

"Well I appreciate it. I know you don't have to keep this a secret, but I appreciate you doing it anyway. I barely scraped by with two D's last semester, but I did it, so as long as I can do that again this semester I won't have to take summer school."

"But how did your mom react to those D's?"

"Not good. I'm grounded, of course. Both her and my dad are really disappointed and can't understand why I did so poorly this semester. The only reason they let me come over here is because they know you've got excellent grades and tutored Ashley…and you're with Ben."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It just assures them that we're not going to be doing anything other than legitimate studying."

Adrian didn't say anything. Instead she gathered up a handful of handwritten notes and set them in Ricky's lap. "I want you to hand write flashcards for these."

"Seriously?" he baulked. "Isn't that a bit elementary school?"

"Hand writing involves physical as well as mental activity, so it stimulates memory in a way that simply reading over notes doesn't. So after you write them up, then use them. Practice them out loud, because saying and hearing them also impress them upon your memory in a way writing and reading doesn't."

"If you say so."

"If you want to avoid summer school, you'll do as I say."

Ricky mock saluted her and then began to pack up his notes and books. When he went to grab for his binder it slipped off the couch and hit the floor causing the flap on the top to fly open. Two small papers fell out and he quickly bent over to scoop them up, revealing them to be movie tickets for _From Paris with Love_. He paused to look at them momentarily and then instinctively reached for his phone, only to remember that his mother had confiscated it when she'd grounded him. Dejectedly, Ricky pushed the tickets back into the binder pouch.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Hey, you got a little something on your nose." Jason leaned across the table outside the Diary Shack and tapped Grace's nose.

She felt an icy cold spot suddenly on the tip of her nose and if she closed one eye and peered down at her nose she could see something on the top. "Hand me a napkin!" she said, slapping at Jason playfully.

"I'll do you one better." Jason leaned over and kissed the ice cream he'd just put there off of Grace's nose.

Grace felt her face burning up as he leaned back into his seat. "I can't believe you just did that!"

"You have a cute nose. Do you blame me?"

Grace rubbed her cheeks until they didn't feel quite so hot anymore and then sighed heavily. "Jason, I need to talk to you."

"Oh, this sounds serious."

"It is."

Jason straightened his posture, all the laughing and joking gone from the air. "Did I do something?"

Grace reached across the table and placed her hands over Jason's. "No, you didn't. But I just want to set some things straight right from the start. I know we've really hit it off since New Years, but I then again, so did Grant and I at med camp. I really jumped into that relationship with Grant without thinking it through first and I deeply regret that. Maybe he wouldn't have been quite so hurt if I had realized my mistake sooner."

"You can't blame yourself for the way you said he reacted to you dancing with Ricky," Jason countered. "People are going to have friends outside of their romantic relationships, girls _and_ guys. You didn't do anything wrong with Ricky, that was all on Grant."

"I know, I know," she sighed. "But that's not the point. I just want you to know that I like you, but I want to take things slowly. I think we're good together. I mean, I knew you all summer before and even for a little bit prior to med camp before you kissed me and I think that's a good start, to know someone for a while before jumping into a relationship with them. But I also want to make it as clear as crystal that if you're looking for anything beyond just your basic courting, that's not me."

Jason laughed. "I know. I think the whole school knows your policy on sex before marriage."

"Yeah, but even though I explained that to Grant, he still pressured me to have sex with him. Not directly, but through offhanded comments and 'jokes.' The same thing happened with Jack. And that's another thing they have in common: they were both way too jealous. Grant to the point where he actually scared me and Jack to the point where he cheated."

"With Madison," Jason nodded.

"Yeah."

"Well I promise you: that's not me."

Grace squeezed his hands. "Good. Because I'm going to trust you when you say that. But if someone breaks my trust, it's hard for them to re-earn it."

"I feel the same way." Jason rotated his hands beneath Grace's so that his palms were facing upwards, pressed against hers. "I'm glad we had this talk."

"So am I." Jason inclined his head. "So are we good?"

"We're good."

Jason tilted his head. "Say, I think we still have time to catch a movie if you're interested. What d'ya say?"

"Romantic comedy?"

Jason made a face and Grace seemed ready to retract her suggestion when he shook his head. "Nah, I'm kidding. Whatever you want. I like all movies. Except slashers. Gore just for gore's sake isn't my thing."

"But you still play football," she teased.

"You're right," he frowned. "Being a masochist does kind of seem contradictory doesn't it?"

Grace chuckled as Jason wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked to his car.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian's front door opened and Ben grinned brightly. "Hey –"

"I need you to watch Mercy."

"W – what?" Ben sputtered as his girlfriend pulled him into her condo. "Right now?"

"Yes!" Adrian snapped. She was busy rushing around the living room grabbing her purse, jacket, a stuffed duffle bag, and shoes.

"You said we could talk!" Ben glared.

Adrian stopped what she was doing and looked guiltily at him. "I know," she said. "And I'm sorry. I had every intention of sitting down with you and doing exactly that until this." She pulled her phone out of her purse and handed it to Ben.

Ben stared at it. "Heather's really in labor this time?"

"Yep. She says the contractions aren't very close together, but she needs me to go pick her up and take her to the hospital. Again, Ben, I'm sorry. Ricky's grounded so she can't contact him and I'm her only other option, so I need you to watch Mercy."

"Yeah, okay." He handed the Latina back her phone. "Give her my best wishes."

"I will." Adrian hesitated before walking away, then she quickly kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sorry we have been so off lately. I hate it and I really do want to work things out as soon as possible."

"But first things first," Ben said. "Go make sure that baby gets delivered safe and sound."

"I will. Mercy's been down for a few hours already, so I don't think she'll be too much trouble."

Ben watched her leave and then headed down the hallway to Adrian's room where his daughter was asleep in her crib. He peered over the edge and smiled at Mercy cuddled up next to his childhood teddy bear. He kissed his finger softly and pressed it to her forehead. "Even on the worst days I still have you."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ricky bounced up and down on the Juergens' front porch step as he waited for someone to answer the door. He could hear footsteps on the other side and see a shadow pass over the peek hole so he knew Ashley was there, being that Amy was supposed to be spending the weekend with their dad.

"What are you doing here?" Ashley asked before she even had the door completely open. "I thought you said were you were grounded?"

"I am, but I just wanted to bring you these." Ricky opened his palm to reveal the movie tickets. "I bought them the day before my mom got my report card and I didn't want them to go to waste. They're for tomorrow's noon showing, in case you want to take a bus and maybe go with a friend or something. Maybe Heather?"

Ashley stepped aside and motioned for him to come in out of the cold February breeze. "How did you get here?" she asked, accepting the tickets from him.

"I drove."

"But-"

"My parents don't know I'm here, so I can't stay for long. Adrian was helping me study which was how I even had permission to leave the house in the first place but we had to cut it short because Ben wanted to come over and talk with her."

Ashley smiled. "So you came over here to see me?"

"Yeah."

"I guess the bad boy hasn't been completely wiped out of you after all."

"Guess not," he smirked.

"So when do you have to be home?"

"By nine, sharp."

"Well that still gives us an hour. You wanna hang out?"

Lines appeared around his mouth as the corners of his lips curved upwards in a very Cheshire smirk. "I really am trying to stick to the right path."

Ashley shrugged. "Well you told your parents you'd be studying, right? So…why don't you just help me with my chemistry again? That's studying, isn't it?"

"I get A's in chemistry."

"So help me get an A too."

Ricky was silent for a beat, then rolled his eyes. "Fine, but set an alarm on your phone. I can't risk getting caught or being home late because who knows what my mother will do to me."

"Probably skin you alive, buy hey, I'm glad someone finally thinks I'm worth it."

"Don't be like that. I'm sure there are plenty of guys – however wrong it is – that think you're worth it."

"Don't go getting all 'big brother' on me now, you know how I hate that mushy crap. And by the way, I want the names of these alleged guys or they don't exist."

"Hey," he said, holding up his hands. "I'm already in trouble with my own parents. I don't need your dad coming after me because I got you a boyfriend."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "Fair enough." She grabbed him by the arm. "Let's go, we're wasting valuable 'study' time."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Heather? Heather, it's Adrian!" The Latina thumped her fist against the feeble wooden door a few times and then wriggled the handle. She'd been standing there a good three minutes trying to get her friend to answer the door, but she hadn't, and Adrian was getting to get worried.

And then there was the sound of groaning locks and the door squeaked open. Heather looked sickly when Adrian finally saw her: deadly white skin veiled in sweat, her red hair matted to her cheeks and forehead, and she was dressed in an oversized man's bathrobe.

"Are you okay?" Adrian gasped.

Heather nodded weakly. "I was just in the bath-t-tub," she shivered, hugging herself. "I heard you calling, but I was having another contraction and I couldn't get to the door. I remembered you said that you did a water birth and it helped with the pain, so I thought maybe sitting in the tub until you got here would help."

"Did it?"

Heather shook her head. "Not much."

"How far apart are the contractions?"

"They've been about ten minutes apart and lasting about a minute each for a little over an hour now."

"Okay, we need to get you into some warm clothes and get you down to the hospital." Adrian wrapped her arm around Heather's back to brace her and together they wobbled back to the closet in her bedroom.

"There's an old nightgown hanging up way in the back. Actually, it's more of a Mumu; the only thing left I have of my great grandmother's. If you could get me that, it would be great."

Adrian opened the closet door all the way and reached into the back, pulling the Mumu off the wire hanger. "Anything else? I'd recommend underwear and socks, just FYI."

"Those would be in the plastic Wal-Mart bag on the floor of the closet. But I don't have luggage or an overnight bag or anything."

"Don't worry, I stuffed a makeshift overnight bag before I left. It's the same one I took to the hospital when Mercy was born. It's got some old magazines, a mini packet of tissue, and some other toiletries like those hotel shampoo and conditioners in it. It's your very basic stuff. And a few snacks to smuggle in, because hospital food is rank."

Heather cracked a smile. "Thanks for coming over here tonight, Adrian."

"Of course. I told you I would be if you wanted me to be." Adrian pulled the Wal-Mart bag off the floor and sat down next to Heather in order to brace her and help her off the bed again. "I'm gonna walk you into the bathroom to change, okay?"

"A huh." Heather half rested her head on Adrian's shoulder as they fumbled their way to the bathroom. The floor was still wet from when Heather had gotten out to go answer the door.

"Don't slip," Adrian warned as she helped the redhead onto the toilet seat and set the bag and Mumu down on the sink beside her. "I'll be right outside the door if you need me." She stepped outside and shut the door almost all the way and waited, listening to the bag rustle and Heather's shuffling footsteps.

A few minutes later Heather's voice called out, "Okay, I'm re – a-a-a-gh!"

Adrian pushed the door open and found Heather hunched on the toilet, gripping her belly with her left hand arm and digging her nails into the roll of toilet paper with her right hand. Adrian quickly moved to her side and began to rub soothing circles on her bath. "Remember your breathing. I know it sounds like a joke right now, but it really does help."

Heather tried to nod and invoke her Lamaze breathing techniques, but she shook her head, exasperated. "C – an't!" she hissed. As the contraction passed her grip on the toilet paper eased until her hand finally fell down and smacked against her leg and the toilet roll unraveled several squares. When she finally lifted her head her eyes were striped with red and her face was drenched in tears.

"It's gonna be okay," Adrian soothed. "Everything is going to work out exactly as it's supposed to." She rubbed Heather's shoulder. "Do you think you can make it down to the car now?"

Heather nodded. "I never imagined pain could be this bad," she whispered. "I just want this to be over!"

Adrian tugged the younger girl up. "It will be. C'mon, slowly now, that's it…"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"You realize that the giant refill popcorn is soooo not worth it?"

"My sister thinks the same thing. She says that it'd probably be more economical to just go steal a refill popcorn box that a 'clean-looking family' leaves on the floor after the movie instead of paying for a brand new one."

Grace tossed some oily yellow popcorn into her mouth as they walked side-by-side down the theater hallway to find the room their movie was playing in. Suddenly her eyes bulged and she looked away.

"Something wrong?" Jason asked confusedly.

"Yeah, Grace, something wrong?"

Grace cringed at the sound of Grant's voice. She turned back slowly and quickly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Hi Grant," she squeaked. She then nodded to Griffin who stood beside his cousin. They had just stepped out of one of the viewing rooms and were heading down the hallway in the opposite direction. "Griffin."

Griffin looked as uncomfortable as Grace did. "Grace," he smiled. "And um…"

"Jason." The older boy offered his hand and Griffin shook it.

"Right," Griffin said. "I've seen you around school. You're on the football team."

Grant shot a dirty look at his cousin but quickly returned his attention to Grace. "I see you're doing well."

Grace pursed her lips. "You too, hopefully."

"As well as can be expected." He eyed Jason and forced a smile. "Are you going back to med camp this summer?"

Jason nodded in reply. "You?"

"I'm looking forward to it."

"I'll keep an eye out for you then," Jason returned. He wrapped an arm around Grace's shoulders. "But it looks like our movie's about to start, so we'd better get going, huh Grace?"

"Y-yeah," she stuttered. "It was nice seeing you…both." The blonde cast her eyes away and quickly passed by the cousins. Once they stepped into the darkness of the viewing room and the door clunked behind them, Grace let out a long breath. "I'm pretty sure if you look up 'awkward' in the dictionary, you'd see exactly what just took place out there."

Jason began to follow her up the steps, illuminated on the edges by rows of little red lights. "It's too bad he's going camp this summer, it'd probably do him good to take a break from seeing you."

"Don't even make me think of that right now," Grace said while plopping down in a seat at the center of the back row. "All I can do is hope and pray we don't get the same lectures or rounds again."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I hate to tell you this, but the baby still won't be here for a while yet. Generally the advice I give to my patients is not to come in until the contractions are so bad that they can't talk to walk."

Adrian glowered. "That sounds a bit late to me. How is someone like Heather, who has no family and no car, supposed to get to the hospital at that point? She might as well just deliver the baby herself in the bathtub."

Heather touched Adrian's hand. "It's – f-fine, Adrian." She rubbed her sweaty forehead. "When I g-get the med-i-cine?"

"The epidural?"

Heather nodded eagerly.

"Every hospital is different, but our policy here is to not administer the epidural until the patient is at least five centimeters dilated. Unfortunately, you're still only four, so it'll be a while."

Heather grabbed for the box of tissues beside the bed, but they were just out of her reach. She looked to Adrian who handed them to her and smiled gratefully before wiping her eyes and face. "You can't give me any kind of time frame?"

"Every woman is different." The doctor moved to the door. "I'll have a nurse come in to check on you again shortly."

"I don't like that guy's attitude," Adrian growled as soon as the doctor was gone. "My doctor wasn't like that at all."

"He's just doing his job."

"Well he's got a terrible bedside manner."

Heather snickered. "I love that you care enough to be infuriated."

Adrian paced back and forth in front of the bed. "Is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need?"

"Do you think you could get me some ice chips?"

"I can probably do that." Adrian moved to step out of the room and stopped in the doorway. "Hey," she said, turning back, "do you need me to call anyone for you?"

"Like who?"

"Like…the adoptive parents?"

Heather closed her eyes. "Is it selfish if I say no? Because I kind of just want a little time with her, before they get here I mean."

Adrian shook her head. "You're the one doing all the hard work to bring her into the world," she smiled. "Wanting a few moments alone is not selfish at all."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Chips and dip?" Ashley asked, carrying a bowl of homemade guacamole and a bag of offbeat brand tortilla chips into her room.

"I didn't know you cooked."

"No, I just scraped out the inside of a couple avocados."

"And mixed in a bunch of finely chopped vegetables and spices."

"Technically tomato is a fruit."

"Whatever," Ricky smirked. "Hand it over." He pushed Ashley's chemistry book out of the way to make room for the bowl.

Ashley popped open the tag and set it between them. She grabbed a chip out and scooped up a whopping hunk of guacamole but instead of eating it she waited for Ricky to try the first bite. "What do you think?"

Ricky nodded in approval. "It's good. Maybe you should bring this over to Heather's the next time we hang out at her place?"

"I'll think about it." Ashley popped the chip into her mouth and chewed on it slowly.

"What time is it?"

Ashley reluctantly pulled out her cell phone to check the time. "We still have fifteen minutes."

Ricky pushed the bowl back so as to bring Ashley's textbook back into position. "So, where did we-"

Ashley laid her hand over the pages. "How did you fail your classes in the first place?"

Ricky's eyes clouded. "It's a long story."

"We have fifteen minutes."

"Longer than that."

"Give me the 'last week on' recap."

"It's more like the 'last year on' recap," he said, trying to avoid her question.

"_And?"_

"And I did a lot of bad things to a lot of innocent people to make my life easier," he said bluntly.

"You cheated."

"Yeah, you're quick." Ricky turned his head away. "Or maybe I'm just not as clever as I thought I was. Adrian figured it out too."

"Maybe I could help out you for a change?"

Ricky laughed. "You've helped me out enough," he said, turning his head back to her, "just by being my fri–" He felt soft lips on his own and the sensation was so jarring that he just froze. He hadn't kissed anyone on the mouth like that since Adrian. But in the hazy madness of the moment, every ounce of logic drained away from him, and Ricky found himself returning the kiss.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Maybe I should've gone with the epidural after all," Adrian said, observing how calm Heather had become after getting the injection.

Heather scratched her arm, then her belly. "I'm not feeling every contraction anymore. Sometimes I can feel some pressure, but I don't feel even close to splitting open anymore."

"I notice you're doing a lot of scratching."

Heather nodded. "Yeah, I'm itchy everywhere. Maybe I'm allergic to the medicine?"

The nurse, who had been checking the machines that Heather was hooked up to, shook her head. "No, that's not an allergic reaction. It's just a side effect of the epidural. It'll wear off as soon as the epidural does."

"I'd rather have chicken pox than be torn apart at the seams."

"How far along is she now?" Adrian asked.

"About six centimeters."

Heather grunted. "Watch me be in labor all weekend."

"I'm sure they wouldn't let that happen."

"Yeah, they'd probably cut into me before that. Ugh, I don't even want to think about a c-section." She grabbed the cup of ice chips Adrian had brought her earlier and heard them slush around at the bottom. "Hey, Adrian? Would you mind getting me some more of these? They've started to melt."

"No problem." Adrian took the cup. "Would it be okay to slip out and make a call too?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Great. I'll be right back." The Latina made her way out of the hospital to the parking lot where her phone could pick up reception and dialed her boyfriend.

"Did Heather have the baby?" Ben asked as soon as she heard his voice.

"Not yet. It's still going to be a while, but she finally got the epidural not too long ago. How's Mercy?"

"Still out like a light."

"Good. I'm estimating I'll be gone all night."

"Maybe I can bring Mercy down in the morning to see the baby? If she's here by then."

"That'd be nice," Adrian agreed. "But don't tell anyone yet, okay? Heather wants to tell people on her own terms."

"I understand."

"Anyway, I need to go get some ice chips, so I'll to you in a while."

"Bye, Adrian."

"Bye." The call disconnected and when the message dissipated the background photo of Ben and Mercy appeared on her screen. She traced it with her finger in a silent moment, taking in the beauty of the way her boyfriend so tenderly held their daughter. It was inconceivable to her how anyone could cast out their child the way Heather's parents had. She promptly shut her phone and resumed her mission back into the hospital to go collect more ice chips.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Grace had barely stepped foot in her room when her phone began to ring. With a roll of her silver eyes she flipped open the cell and pressed it to her ear. "Yes I got in all right!" she joked. But on the other end, there was silence. Her smile drained. "Jason?" When silence continued to answer back she finally decided to look at the caller I.D. which read: _Blocked_.

The blonde swallowed. "Hello? Who _is_ this?" she demanded. "Jason, if this is you, this isn't funny!" But the call simply disconnected. Grace slowly moved to her window and looked outside towards the curb, but Jason's car was gone. A shiver passed over her and she quickly pulled her curtains shut. Her eyes swept her room and then she shook her head. "You're being ridiculous," she muttered. Nonetheless, she tossed her phone onto her bed and moved to open her door. "Mom? Mom!"

"Downstairs, Grace! What do you need?"

Grace pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and forced on a smile. She quickly trotted out of her room, down the stairs, and found her mother curled up on one of the sofas reading a book. "Whatcha reading?"

Kathleen lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "Just something I picked up in a clearance bin, why?" She moved her feet off the cushion next to her and patted the spot. "You look a little flustered, something wrong?"

Grace shook her head. "Nope. Why would I be flustered? I just went on a wonderful date with a wonderful guy."

"Care to tell me about it?"

Grace considered it for a moment, then finally gave in and went to sit beside her mother and began to animatedly describe her date at the Diary Shack and the movies.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Heather gripped Adrian's hand. Her legs were propped up on stirrups and her face was sweaty, but she was not crying out and doubling over in pain as she had been in her apartment. "It doesn't hurt, but I feel exhausted," she said, shaking her head. "I just feel so tired!"

"Just a few more really good pushes, Heather. I know you can do it!"

"Come on," Adrian urged. "She's almost here!" She grabbed a tissue and wiped the sweaty beads from her friend's brow. "Let's do this!"

Heather grabbed one of the bars on the bed again and continued to hold tight to Adrian's hand. She shut her eyes and grunted loudly, her knuckles turning corpse white. When she couldn't find the strength to do it anymore she relaxed back into her pillows, taking rapid breaths in and out.

"The head's out!" the doctor informed her. "Just one more push and we're done!"

Adrian turned to Heather and raised her brows. "You ready?"

Heather heaved as though she'd just run a marathon but still had one more mile to go before she finished. Slowly she shook her head up and down and resumed her grip on the hospital bed. Squeezing her eyes shut she began to push again.

Adrian looked up at the clock and at precisely nineteen passed two in the morning she heard the first cries of a newborn. "You do it!"

Happy tears began to snake down Heather's fake as she watched the nurses wipe of her daughter and wrap her into a clean hospital issued baby blanket. When Adrian let go of her hand she instantly reached out for the nurse who set her daughter in her arms. She shook her head, laughing through tears. "She doesn't look a thing like me."

Adrian admired the little girl's tiny heart shaped face. When she looked at the newborn's skin it reminded her of Mercy's: much darker than Heather's, but far lighter than the skin she'd seen in the picture of the baby's father. In fact, the newborn reminded her quite a bit of a miniature version of the Eastern Indian model and actress, Aishwarya Rai. "She's gorgeous, Heather."

Heather pressed a chaste kiss to the baby's forehead. "How is it possible to instantaneously love something you've known for mere seconds this much?"

"I still haven't figured that out." Adrian stroked her finger across the baby's arm. "Does she have a name?"

Heather shook her head. "It's not my place to give her a name," she whispered. "And frankly, I don't think I want to know what it will be either. It'll be easier for me that way."

Adrian noted the nurses and doctors excusing themselves. "I can give you a few minutes alone, if you want."

"If you don't mind," Heather nodded.

"I'll be just outside if you need me." As she moved to the door she heard a soft whimper and although she didn't look back to make sure, she was almost positive it wasn't from the newborn.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

It wasn't even quite nine on the morning yet, but Ben had satiated himself with a doughnut on the way to the hospital and now found himself pushing his daughter's stroller through the wide hallway to Heather's recovery room. When he got there the door was shut and the curtains were drawn over the window, so he double checked the room number, and then lightly knocked.

A moment later the door opened and Adrian stood on the other side, still dressed in the clothes she'd been wearing the night before. "Hey," she said, stepping aside to allow them entrance.

"Good morning," Ben peeped as he pushed the stroller into the room. He saw Heather on the bed, holding her daughter, and it stopped him in his tracks. Leaning in to whisper to Adrian he said, "It seems like a lifetime ago that Mercy was that small."

"I know."

"Has anyone else been by yet?"

Adrian shook her head. "I called over at Ricky's house and Margaret said she'd give him special leave to come over here and see Heather _before_."

"What about Ashley?" Ben asked. "I know the three of them were kind of…" He held up his hand, revealing his middle finger crossed over his index finger.

"I don't think he's bringing her, but I haven't called to find out. You know them better than I do, maybe you should?"

"I'd be happy to." Ben waved to Heather and quickly excused himself from the room.

Adrian bent down and pulled back the shade on the stroller. "There's my favorite girl!" she cooed, unlocking her daughter from the stroller. She bounced Mercy on her hip as she brought her over to the bed. "Look at that," she whispered. "That's a baby, just like you used to be!"

Mercy gurgled and stretched out her arm, her fingers brushing the thin black tufts of downy hair on the newborn's head. She made a delighted noise that sounded like a cross between blowing bubbles through a straw and a cat's purrs.

"Heather?"

The redhead lifted her head tiredly. "Ricky, you made it!"

"Of course I did. I got here as soon as my mom would let me." Ricky nervously approached the bed and stood opposite Adrian with Mercy in between them. He looked down at the new baby with awe. "Looks like you did good, kid."

"Who you callin' 'kid'?"

Ricky grinned and stroked the palm of the tiny hand with his finger. He bit back the urge to break into a full smile when the baby's itsy bitsy fist wrapped around it.

Ben slipped back into the room and moved to Adrian's side. "I got a hold of her," he whispered. "I sent my driver to go pick her up and bring her down here."

"Thanks," Adrian nodded, without taking her eyes off Heather, Ricky, and the baby.

"She's got a good grip, doesn't she?" Ricky asked rhetorically. "Who knows, maybe she'll make a star baseball player one day?"

"It's too bad you can't teach her."

"Who says I won't? You never know."

"You want to hold her?" Heather asked.

"I don't know…"

"You've helped me out with this pregnancy for four months, Ricky. You were the first one who wanted to help me. You should at least see what you helped me out with."

Ricky moved into the spot Adrian was standing as the latter moved aside and accepted the babe into his arms. From his new vantage point he could see tiny, almost imperceptible little things in the tiny girl's face that reminded him of his friend. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Sunday afternoon it was just Heather, Adrian, and the baby alone in the hospital room. Heather was dressed in her own clothes and sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, ready to be officially released, and her daughter was lying comfortably in her arms. Every so often she'd look up to check the clock and then gaze back down at her baby.

"How are you doing?" Adrian asked, coming to sit down beside her.

"The stitches from the tearing still hurt," the redhead frowned.

"You know that's not what I mean."

Heather kept her eyes on her daughter. "How do you think I'm doing?"

Adrian wrapped one arm around her friend's shoulders. Together they sat like that for what seemed like an eternity to Adrian, but she suspected it was probably only like a flash second for Heather. As soon as there was a knock on the door Adrian looked up and saw Joel and Michaela Viceroy peeking in.

"Is she ready?" Michaela asked hesitatingly, referring to the baby, not Heather.

Heather nodded without looking at them.

Joel carried the car seat over to the bed and placed it beside Heather. He waited momentarily until Heather finally met his eyes, then he gently extracted the one day old child from her birth mother's arms and set her into the car seat and safely strapped her in.

Michaela came over to inspect and when she was satisfied she turned to Heather with tears in her green eyes. "Thank you," she hiccupped. "You have no idea how much having this child means to us."

Heather nodded. Her whole demeanor was numb. "Take care of her."

"We will," Joel promised. "Thank you."

Heather dug her fingers into the edge of the bed as the married couple carried their new daughter out of the room and the last she saw of the new family was their backs from the window. As soon as they were gone a strangled cry fell from her lips and she furiously punched the bed.

Adrian felt the floodgates unleash from her eyes too and quickly embraced her friend like a straightjacket. The only sound in Adrian's ears was that of Heather's gasping sobs as they held onto one another on the bed.


	20. Mistakes Were Laid

**A/N: **Only four chapters left of this story! Thanks so much to everyone who is still reading. I've been really excited to post the Ricky scenes in this chapter.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Mistakes Were Laid**

Ricky was leaning against the wall when the last bell of the day rang. Seconds later students came surging out of the doors almost simultaneously, like levies busting. However, his attention was focused on the door he was standing three feet from. He waited like a crouching tiger and when a familiar head of brown hair walked out, he grabbed Ashley by the arm and pulled her down the hallway to a classroom that had just been evacuated. "We need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"I've been trying to pin you down all day!"

"What a coincidence: I've been ignoring you all day!" Ashley snarled back. "Can't you take a hint?"

"What happened on Friday-"

"Was a _mistake_." Ashley's voice was firm and short. She refused to meet his eyes as she spoke. "You've made plenty of them before so you should know."

"You're right," he agreed. "We're friends."

"_Just_ friends," Ashley agreed. "I think friends-with-benefits is stupid. _I'm_ stupid. I don't know what came over me that night. You've never felt that way about me, right?"

Ricky shook his head. "You're a beautiful girl, Ashley. But you know that already and you know I know that already. But you're fifteen and I'm seventeen."

"So you're saying you would have a romantic interest in me if I was sixteen?"

"No! I'm just saying that-"

"Look, I can handle it if you say you've never felt anything for me beyond friendship, but don't throw a two year age difference in there when it's irrelevant."

"We're just friends," he repeated.

"Good. Then we have nothing more to talk about."

Ricky grabbed Ashley by the arm again. "I want to know what prompted you to kiss me in the first place?"

She shut her eyes. "I don't know. I don't want to be part of that cliché that says girls and boys can't be friends. I really like being your friend. Maybe it's just that you were the first guy to ever really pay attention to me and treat me like I'm not invisible. I guess I just got caught up in the moment. I–" she seemed to choke on her words "–I'm sorry."

"Me too," Ricky replied, releasing her arm. "If I did anything to imply that we were anything other than friends, I'm sorry too. I deeply appreciate the relationship – _friend_ship – that we have and I don't want to ruin that for anything."

"You mean anymore than we already have."

"Yeah."

"Then maybe it would be wise to just give me some time alone; away from you."

"Is that really what you want?"

"Yes."

Ricky bowed his head. "All right."

"I have to get to my bus." Ashley lingered for a minute longer and when Ricky didn't try to stop her again, she made a beeline out the door.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"What's all this?" Adrian inquired as she stepped into Ben's bedroom. The cover was littered printouts and pamphlets and the desk was cluttered in books. She shifted to the desk and picked up one of the books, noting the label on the spine. "Did you hold up a library?"

"I've been doing some research," Ben said, puffing up like a chirpy little parakeet.

Adrian ran her hand across the surface of the books. "On…relationships and counseling? Am I suppose to take from this that you think we need relationship counseling?"

"No!" He grabbed a handful of papers from his bed and thrust them at his girlfriend. "They're two different things. I was looking up books on relationships and books on counseling."

"And?" she asked, looking down at an NYU pamphlet.

"And what do you think of me becoming a counselor like Mr. Molina?"

Adrian stared blankly at him. "Uh…is that something you _want_ to do?"

"I don't know, maybe! That's why I was researching it!" He skipped around the room like a child on sugar. "What do you think?"

"I thought you said you had a solution to our problem?"

"Yeah!" Ben grinned. "Don't you see?" He opened up the pamphlet in her hands. "NYU has a counseling program. We could both go there together: you could work on becoming a lawyer and I could go get my Master's in counseling."

"Okay," she sighed, setting the pamphlet down on top of the books. "I appreciate you taking the initiative to look into this, but how does that help us after I graduate?"

Ben moved close to Adrian and took her hands in his. "I was thinking we could move in together."

"That would be a given. We couldn't just live in two separate places in New York."

"No," he shook his head. "Not then. I'm talking about _now_."

"_Now? What?!"_

"Yeah!" Ben cried eagerly. "We could move in together this summer. It would be like prep for living together in New York!"

Adrian scoffed. "First of all, there's absolutely no way that you could move into my condo. My mother would never allow it and besides, that would be _way_ too awkward and cramped! It was bad enough when George was living with us. And secondly, no offense, but I am not moving in here with you. I know that your house has plenty of room – and hell, your father may even allow it, he lets me stay over enough – but I am simply not comfortable with that. Besides, how would living in your father's house help us at all?"

Ben fervently shook his head. "You're still not getting it! I'm not talking about moving in with your mother or my father, I'm talking about getting a place of our own, _together!_"

Adrian pulled her hands out from under Ben's. "We're still in high school."

"But like you keep saying: you're only in high school for another year."

"How could be possibly afford a place in high school if we can't afford a place when we're out of high school?"

Ben held up his finger and wagged it excitedly. He flipped open his laptop and held it up to Adrian: the picture on the screen was the front of a quaint looking condominium with Leo, a bushy brunette, and a five-year-old Ben standing in front of it. "That's me and my parents. Any guesses on where this was taken?"

"Why don't you just tell me?"

"This was my parents' first house together, before my dad had the mansion built. He never sold it after they moved, he just rented it out. He renovated it when I was five, which was when this photo was taken, and it had renters in it until two years ago, but after their daughter went off to college they moved to Florida, and it's been empty ever since."

"I thought I made myself clear about not wanting to take anything from your dad!"

"Just hear me out! What if, what _if_, we moved in over the summer and tried living together during your senior year? During that time I could see about increasing my hours at the hours at the butcher shop, maybe get a raise or something…and we could work together to save up for New York?"

The frustrated look on Adrian's face was beginning to lift. "And that would give us a whole year to get familiar with each other. Living with someone isn't a picnic," she said slowly. "And then I could do my first year of college through the online program like we talked about. Maybe I could even look into getting a job again…so long as it's not a Francis Lentz redux."

"And if we're living together, wouldn't that be much easier than toting Mercy between our houses? We would have more privacy and we could work on apartment hunting and daycare research _together_."

Adrian pressed her hands together, palms facing, and touched her index fingers to her lips. "You really think this will work?"

"It's the best thing we've thought of so far, isn't it?"

Adrian tossed her arms around Ben's neck. "_You_ thought of it."

"But _you_ pushed me to."

"I'm willing to work with this."

Ben kissed her nose. "Good, because I wasn't about to take any other answer."

Adrian stood on her tip toes to nip at his lips. "So does this mean we're not fighting anymore?"

"You tell me."

Adrian grabbed the flaps of his jacket and tugged it down his arms. "I believe we're officially in the 'makeup' stage."

Ben wriggled his arms out of his jacket and it fell to the floor behind his feet. "I _love_ making up," he whispered, kissing her ear.

Adrian quickly jerked Ben towards the bed and pushed him backwards. Papers and pamphlets went fluttering as he landed with a bounce and she quickly jumped on the bed with him, straddling his chest and giving him a highly predatory stare. She seductively leaned over him, reaching for the drawer on the nightstand.

Ben leaned up and kissed the bare flesh that was exposed on Adrian's stomach as her shirt fell over his eyes. His lips found her belly button and he kissed that too.

Adrian tried not to shudder as she pulled a condom out of the box in the drawer and sat back up, her stomach no longer within the reach of Ben's mouth. She looked down at him and slowly lifted the condom to her mouth, slid the edge of the wrapper between her teeth, and seductively tore it open.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Hey, Heather," Grace chirped brightly when the redhead opened the door. "You're looking good!" She held out a Tupperware container filled with cookies. "They're Snickerdoodles, I hope you like them!"

Heather accepted the Snickerdoodles glumly. "Thanks, Grace." She nodded to Amy. "Hi, Amy." The usual spark in her attitude was nonexistent and she limped when she walked. "Did you drive over here?"

"I can't drive anyone under eighteen for a while since I only just got my license," the blonde explained.

"Lauren's brother dropped us off," Amy filled in.

"Oh, yeah."

The brunette noted the odd way Heather was walking. "Did you hurt your leg?"

"I'm just in a lot of pain from the tearing during the birth." Heather set the cookies on the counter. "Not that I'm not grateful for you guys coming by, but do you mind if I go lay down while you're here?"

"Of course not, whatever makes you comfortable!" Grace happily trailed Heather back to her bedroom and hugged herself a little as she watched the other girl hunch down and climb under the sheet on her mattress. She noted a Wal-Mart pharmacy bag by the mattress along with a mug of water.

"Have you heard from the Viceroys?" Amy asked timidly.

"No. I signed on the dotted line Sunday and that was that. It was a closed adoption. Besides, even if they wanted to call, I don't have a phone."

"Oh."

Grace rubbed her shoulder nervously. "Is now a bad time?"

Heather shook her head. "I just feel pretty crappy, but I appreciate the company. It's always a pleasure when you spread your sunshine, Grace. And I mean that in the least sarcastic way possible."

Grace tapped her lips in thought. "Well you know, I just had a thought." When Heather and Amy looked expectantly at her and smiled sheepishly and held up her index finger. "I'll be right back!" The blonde scurried back into the living room and peeled her cell phone out of her purse, dialing her mother.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom, it's Grace."

"Isn't it a little early for a call? I thought you and Amy were visiting Heather after school today?"

"We are, but she's not feeling so hot. So I was wondering if you could pick a few things up from the store for me and drop them over here? I would do it myself, but I really don't want to leave her."

"What kind of things?"

Grace's face brightened and she covered the mouthpiece conspiratorially.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Margaret said you're grounded." Nora was seated beside Ricky on a city bus.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm just wondering if that's the reason you opted to go to my NA meeting with me."

Ricky folded his arms. "It's not."

"You sure? It's a pretty convenient way to escape the house for a couple hours."

"Yeah, to go to a meeting where people share their stories about drug addiction. It's a barrel of laughs," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"So is that why Margaret suggested I come down here? As _punishment_?"

"No." Ricky tried to stretch his legs out but his knees hit the back of the seat in front of him. "It was my idea. Before I was grounded. I was thinking of going up there to see you; go to a meeting with you or something. Afterwards Mom decided that was too far to let me drive on restriction, so she suggested seeing if you wanted to come down here instead."

Nora nodded. "So what did you get busted for? Drugs? Alcohol? Cutting class?"

"Bad grades."

Nora snorted. "You make a lousy bad boy!"

"Well if that's how you rate the quality of your child, it's too bad we didn't see each other two years ago."

"You're my child now?"

Ricky shrank further into his seat. "You know what I mean."

Nora smirked. "Yeah, I do." She dropped her head back to stare at the ceiling of the bus. "For whatever it's worth – and whatever reason you're doing it – I'm glad we're finally going together. I've always wanted you to be a part of my recovery, Ricky."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

There was a quick rapping on Ben's door and then it drifted open revealing Leo. "Hey, Ben, I just wanted to let you know-" The middle aged man stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the bare back of his granddaughter's mother draped over his son on the latter's bed.

Ben felt Adrian freeze above him and inhale sharply, holding her breath. He, too, was holding his breath as he wiggled his head around Adrian's shoulders to look at his father. He had no idea what to say in that moment. What _could_ he say?

Leo stood shell shocked in the doorway. All of the sudden he pushed his hand up, revealing a baby monitor. "I just came up here to let you know that I found the baby monitor down on the kitchen table when I got home. I thought you might be wondering where it was." He promptly set the monitor down on the dresser, realizing only afterwards that it was sitting by a ripped condom wrapper, and quickly left the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Oh my god!" Adrian hissed. She rolled off of Ben. "I cannot believe this! I have never been more humiliated in my life!"

"Adrian-"

"No! No, I am going to get dressed and hopefully sneak out without having to look your father in the eyes again!" Adrian hunched over the side of the bed, hurrying to grab her clothes that were scattered around on the floor. "God, Ben, I thought you said he wasn't going to be home until late tonight!"

"He wasn't! He was supposed to be at a catering job with Bunny in Cathedral City!"

"Well apparently it fell through!" Adrian clasped on her bra, pulled on her jeans, and quickly slid into her shirt. "Look, I'm just going to leave Mercy here with you tonight, okay? I don't want to risk waking her up and running into your dad."

Ben nodded from the bed. "Call me?"

"We'll see." Adrian snatched up her purse and quickly surveyed the room to make sure she wasn't leaving anything behind and then carefully opened the door and peered out the hallway looking left to right and back again like she was a spy in a James Bond film. When it was clear she took one glance back at Ben and then slipped out into the hallway, shutting the door as quietly as possible behind her.

Ben grabbed the pillow from the other side of his bed and smacked himself in the face with it a few times. He moaned. "If I'd only locked my door!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I hope I remembered everything you asked for," Kathleen said. She stood outside Heather's apartment with a large brown paper bag in one arm and an at home foot spa box tucked under the other.

Grace stepped into the hallway and lightly shut the door. She took the bag from her mother, bent down to the floor, and set it down so she could go through everything: a jar of a pedicure scrub, a nail file, several quick dry nail polishes, and a battery operated hand massager. "It's perfect! Thanks, Mom!"

"No problem. You girls have fun, okay? Let me know when you need me to pick you up."

"I will!" Grace waved to her mother before skipping back into the apartment. "I have a surprise!" she chirped, poking her head back into Heather's room. "Who's up for a Grace Bowman pedicure?!" Once she was done dumping out the contents of the bed beside Heather's mattress she picked up the pedicure product. "I've been eyeing this in the store for months just waiting for a good opportunity to try it. I'd say now is as good a time as any."

"What do you think of this one?" Amy asked, climbing on to the mattress beside Heather. "I think teal looks really good with your hair and eyes." She held it up beside Heather's face.

"You don't have to touch my stinky old swollen feet," Heather laughed self consciously. "But I do like that color."

"This is what girlfriends do," Grace protested. "We help each other feel better and you deserve some spoiling right now. I just need to go fill this up with some warm water," she said, indicating the foot spa. "I regret to say, it's nothing too fancy. It says it massages, but really it just has a switch that vibrates. It probably wasn't worth near as much as I paid for it, but it should do the trick. I've only used it once, but I cleaned it out, so don't worry about it being unsanitary."

"It's a plastic vibrating tub," Heather laughed. "It's no worse than moving into a dingy apartment where who knows how many people have lived and then using the bathtub, right?"

"Hopefully it's better than that!" Grace shook the foot spa out of its box and ran it down to the bathroom to fill it up in the sink. She waited a while and eventually grew impatient for the water to heat up. After it did she gave the foot spa a quick rinse and then turned the water off at the fill line. It was much heavier than she remember, like carrying three of her school backpacks in her arms, so she had to walk literally one foot in front of the other to keep from dropping or spilling. As she approached the door she heard Amy talking. She wasn't trying to listen, but with the pace she was walking at, she couldn't help but overhear.

"…found these movie tickets. Were you planning to go to the movies with Ashley on Saturday? Before you went into labor I mean?"

"I'd been having horrible Braxton Hicks all week, I had no intention of going anywhere this weekend. But, I do recall Ricky saying something about the movies. Maybe he and Ashley planned to go before his mom busted him? _Yeah,_ the more I think about it, the more that sounds right, because it was rated R, right?"

"That's what it says on the stub."

"Yeah, 'cause he was complaining last week about how he couldn't buy tickets because he wasn't eighteen. I think he asked someone else to buy some tickets for him. I don't remember what her name was. Dawn? Shawn? Something like that."

"But I thought Ricky was grounded?"

"I guess that's why you found 'em then, huh?"

Grace finally reached the doorway. "So far so good. Now if I can just get this over to the bed without spilling anything…" A few steps later she set the foot spa down at the foot of the mattress.

Amy busily tucked something away into her purse and dropped it back down next to Grace's. A moment later what sounded like a church hymn began to emanate from that general direction. "Uh, that's not me."

"That's actually mine," Grace said sheepishly. Her hands were wet as she was fiddling with Heather's feet and the foot spa. "Do you think you could answer that for me?"

Amy opened up Grace's purse and quickly found her cell phone. She watched as Grace attempted to dry off her hands on her skirt. "Grace Bowman's phone, hello?"

Grace flicked her hands back and forth until they were mostly dry and then held her hand out to accept the phone. "Who is it?" she whispered, covering the mouth piece.

Amy shook her head. "It sounds like it might be a wrong number. Or it got disconnected. Nobody was there."

Grace quickly looked down at the caller I.D. and realized it was blocked. She abruptly hung up.

"Something wrong?" Heather asked, her curiosity piqued by Grace's hanging up the phone without even saying hello.

"I don't like to answer blocked calls who can't even say hello."

"Maybe it's a prank caller?" Amy suggested. "Ashley and I used to dial random numbers to prank call when we were little. There was this one old lady we called mercilessly until our parents got the phone bill and realized we'd been calling her long distance. I don't think I've ever seen my dad so mad!"

"I'm sure that's all it was," Grace lied, feeling guilty even if it was only a white lie. She turned off her phone and chucked it back over to the spot where hers and Amy's purses were sitting. "Anyway," she said, returning to her typically sunny demeanor, "where were we?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The Narcotics Anonymous meeting took place in Grace's church. Ricky wasn't entirely sure what he'd been expecting, but knowing it was in a church made him uncomfortable. The fact that it was Grace's church made it even more so. Even though he didn't recognize any of the members at the meeting from his personal, everyday life, the setting felt wrong to him: the last and only time he'd ever been there was for Marshall Bowman's funeral. Not to mention, the cavernous room and vaulted ceilings made him feel tiny and exposed, especially in the dark.

This particular meeting was something called the Candlelight Meeting, where the lights were left off and the room was lit only by candle flame. In this instance bowls of white floating tea lights were interspersed around the room – on the pews, on the floor, on the tables, lining the aisles – like white rose petals. As far as Ricky was concerned, they looked like they could be setting up for a wedding. As Nora had explained to him, the Candlelight Meetings were always held at night and done to reinforce the anonymity of the members: principals before personalities.

"Thank you, Jane!" the group responded – not simultaneously and some even uttering "thanks" or _"gracias"_ instead – when one woman had finished her personal share.

Nora immediately straightened up against the step she and Ricky were sitting on below the pulpit. "Hello, I'm Nora. I'm an alcoholic addict."

"Hello, Nora," several voices echoed back.

"As you can probably tell, I'm not a regular face here. This isn't my home group, but I chose to come here tonight because this is where my son lives and he agreed to come with me." Nora looked to the group. "I've made a lot of fucking mistakes in my life and as a result, I lost Ricky because of them. In fact, you could say I got him in the first place because of one. But I didn't protect him like a mother should have. When things got bad, I sought comfort in drugs and alcohol. That's something I'm not proud of. In fact, it's still something I hate myself for daily. When I look back on all those years I spent drinking myself until I blacked or getting high enough to distract myself from what was going on in my son's bedroom every night, it makes me sick. _Literally_ sick. There have been nights I couldn't even keep a Snickers bar down..."

Ricky looked down at his lap. Even in the poor light, if he kept his head up, he could see people's eyes on him. Worse, he could feel them. All he wanted was to fade into the flickering shadows.

"…but you – having you – was probably the _one_ thing I did _right_."

The conviction saturating her words – the way her voice was cracking as she spoke them – imbued Ricky with the courage to look up. First at the group, then at Nora. He could see the real tears in her eyes, glinting off her cheeks. The flames reflected in the hot, sound raindrops as they punctuated her face and fell off the ledge of her chin, hitting her jeans and leaving dark round blots that only he was close enough to notice.

"The day I heard you got your father sent to prison was the day I decided that I would become clean, no matter how long it was going to take. It wasn't easy – and I relapsed so many times – but I knew that if you could succeed, then so could I. You gave me hope and inspiration. So thank you. And I love you, Ricky. I just want you and everyone to know that. Thank you. That's all I have."

"Thank you, Nora," came the reverberating reply. But this time it was entwined with a few sobs, sniffles, and cracking voices.

Ricky felt his heart falling and shattering like all those teardrops.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Did you girls have fun?" Kathleen asked, looking at her daughter and Amy from the rearview mirror.

"I think we helped Heather loosen up a bit," Grace said. "She was looking pretty bad when we got there, but she was talking and laughing by the time we left."

Amy nodded quietly. She sat on the right side of the car, while Grace sat behind her mother. She had her hands in her lap and was alternating between looking down at them and looking at the window.

"That's good. Recovering from childbirth is no picnic, especially after going through everything Heather has had to go through this year. I'm proud of you two for recognizing that and making time to go cheer her up today." Kathleen stole another look into the rearview mirror and cleared her throat. "So I know we were just planning on meeting back at my house so your dad could take you home, but George was thinking it might be nice to go out to dinner tonight. What do you the two of you think?" she asked cautiously.

Grace and Amy looked at each other and simultaneously asked, "Where?"

"Geoff's!" Kathleen replied rather quickly. "I know Grace likes Geoff's, how about you, Amy?"

"Is my dad bringing Ashley?"

"He picked her up at school today."

Amy raised an eyebrow. "She said she was taking the bus."

"It was a spur of the moment idea."

Amy and Grace looked at one another again and shared an expression of suspicious disbelief.

"George is bringing Ashley _and_ Tom," Kathleen added.

Grace clamped her mouth shut. She realized quickly – and suspected Amy had also – that it wasn't_ just_ dinner, but a faux family dinner that her mother and George were trying to coax them into. She didn't appreciate being tricked into that and, judging by the look on the brunette's face, neither did Amy. Even though she had begun to warm up to George somewhat since he'd helped her look for cars, she still wasn't ready to totally accept him as a replacement figure for her father.

"I don't know," Amy finally spoke up. "I – I, uh, h-have a lot of, um…h-h-homework."

Kathleen frowned into the rearview mirror disappointedly. "Well, okay," she sighed. "We were hoping to just meet at the restaurant, but of course your studies are more important." She came upon a yellow light and slowed to a stop. "Grace," she instructed, "can you call George and let him know we'll be meeting him at the house instead of the restaurant?" She produced her cell phone from her purse and passed it back to her daughter just before the light turned green again.

Grace crinkled her face as she looked up George's number in her mother's address book and hit the dial button. The phone rang twice before she heard George's voice on the other end.

"_Heeey, Kitty Kat!"_

"Kitty Kat?" Grace demanded, glaring towards the front of the car.

Kathleen's head bolted up, looking at Grace in the rearview mirror.

"Grace?" George's voice peeped back awkwardly.

The blonde teenager could see her mother's cherry colored reflection in the rearview mirror. "My mom asked me to call you," she explained, keeping her voice as tight as possible. "Amy says she has homework and can't go out to dinner tonight, so we're just going to come straight home."

"Put Amy on the phone."

"But-"

"Put her on the phone."

Grace sighed dramatically and held the phone out to her friend. "He wants to talk to you."

Amy reluctantly took the phone and turned away to stare out the window. After a few minutes she said, "B-but I have h-homework!" The noise secreting from the phone was getting louder. "No! I'm not and you can't make me!" She pulled the phone away from her ear.

"…and you're going to that restaurant!"

Amy quickly thumbed the button to end the call and shoved the phone back to Grace. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and quickly turned to the window to avoid looking at either of the Bowmans.

Grace looked at her mother through the rearview mirror, having no idea what to do.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Oh – ho man!" Henry's voice chuckled through the speaker on Ben's cell phone. "I can't believe your dad walked in on you!"

"I don't know how I'm supposed to talk to him about moving in with Adrian now," Ben groaned, pacing back and forth across his room as he spoke.

"And he really just set the baby monitor down and walked right back out?"

"Which makes it even worse. I just know he's up in his room stewing about this. But what can you say, right? It wouldn't be like him to try and embarrass Adrian, so what else _could_ he do?"

"It's all the more reason for you to move out: no more chance of having either one of your parents walking in on you guys again."

"That would definitely be a plus."

"So what are you gonna do?"

Ben flopped down into his chair and spun around a few times. "I have no idea. Maybe I should give him a week to cool off and try to forget about this before bringing anything up?"

"He's not going to get that image out of his head in a week."

"You're right," Ben deadpanned. "Grace _still_ tells Adrian how awful walking in on her mom and George was."

"What do you think is worse: a kid walking in on their parent or a parent walking in on their kid?"

Ben stared up at the ceiling. "Given that my dad was fully aware that Adrian and I have been dating, I think this round goes to Grace. But it doesn't mean this won't be just as much of a pain in the ass to deal with."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian stood in her bathroom wearing her white robe. Her hair hung loosely down her shoulders and she was staring at her reflection as she scrubbed her toothbrush back and forth across her molars, canines, and incisors. After a thorough brushing she spat into the sink, rinsed off her brush, dropped it into her tooth brush holder, and quickly poured a mouthful of green mouthwash into her mouth. The mint flavor was almost too hot to stand, so she began to look around the bathroom for something else to focus on while she swished the solution around in her mouth for the full minute that the directions advised.

Her dark eyes landed on the toothbrush holder and the vigor of her swishing decreased. She tried to recall what Ben's toothbrush had looked like back in his bathroom, but she'd never given that much thought before. But now she was trying to imagine what it would look like, especially what it would look like seated in the other hole in her own toothbrush holder, right beside her toothbrush.

Adrian spit the foamy green liquid into the sink and ran the water a few times, starting and stopping like a painfully slow stop-and-go traffic until all the foam had made its way down the drain. When she was through she grabbed her toothbrush from the holder again and held it lengthwise, staring at the tongue scrubber on the back of it. She lifted her eyes to stare at her reflection again.

Her mind flashed back to that fateful night in October, when she'd stood in the same bathroom, before the same mirror, instead holding a little white stick between her fingers. Adrian turned her toothbrush over and studied the pink and white bristles. She couldn't help but think of the pink plus. It felt so foreign to her now, over two years later, as a mother and a girlfriend. It was hard to fathom how at that point in time she thought her life was over and she had been so dead set on an abortion to fix her mistake. Now, she couldn't imagine life without Mercy, and as she set the toothbrush back into its holder, she was also trying to imagine her future with something else she never thought of before: Ben.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Grace trotted halfway down the stairs and stopped when she heard heated words emanating from the kitchen where she was on her way to steal a late night snack, having not gone to Geoff's after all.

"…so I dropped her off at home because I didn't think trying to push her into having dinner with everyone was a wise idea, George!"

"I am tired of my girls running my life!" George's voice responded angrily. "I'm their father. It's my job to tell them how it is, _not_ the other way around! I've been giving them a lot of leeway lately because I know it's hard for any kid to adapt to their parents dating someone else, but at some point, something's gotta give!"

"I understand that and I agree with you completely, but tonight was not that night. By forcing Amy to go, it only would've caused more problems than solutions. You didn't see the look on her face, George."

"I just don't understand." George's voice was finally calming down. "Grace and Tom have been far more receptive of me lately than Amy and Ashley are of you. I don't get it! You haven't even done anything to them."

"I don't think it's me that's the problem," Kathleen's voice responded gently. "There are a lot of bad feelings between our families. You and I didn't help matters by bringing up Amy and Grace the way we did with our own little rivalry. Then look at how things between you and Anne ended up: you cheated on her, for a long time. Don't you remember the feelings you had towards me after you caught me cheating on you? Just imagine how your daughters feel; imagine how Anne feels…what they must talk about with each other. It's not as simple as getting everybody together for dinner. It's going to take time. Maybe a lot more time than you want it to."

"Are you willing to wait it out?"

"George, I haven't been this happy since Marshall was alive. The question is: are _you _willing to wait? I know how impatient you've always been."

"Impatient? Says the woman who wanted to get married just so she could attack my _sexy_ _body!_"

"Well at least I wanted to get married first."

"The first time!"

"Shush! That was a one time deal and you know it! I got caught up in the moment, okay?"

"And the moment was pretty good too…until Grace walked in."

"Yeah, don't remind me."

Grace spun around and hurried herself back up the stairs. There was too much information to take in. She returned to her room and picked up her cell phone, realizing she had a missed call from Adrian. "Just the person I wanted to talk to," she said, hitting the button to return the call. As the phone began to ring she heard a telltale beep and looked down at the screen to see that she had a simultaneous incoming call from a blocked number. With a shaky finger she hit the _Ignore_ option.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"So that seemed like a pretty good group, huh?"

Ricky stood outside his front door with Nora. "I guess. I don't really have anything to compare it to though."

Nora rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet. "Maybe sometime when you're not on lockdown you could come up and go to a meeting with me at my home group?"

"Maybe," Ricky nodded. His hand was on the door handle, but he hadn't brought himself to open the door yet. "I, uh, appreciated what you said tonight."

Nora pressed her lips together and nodded. "And I appreciated you coming…but you already know that."

Ricky weaved his fingers through his hair. "So, um, I guess I'll see you later then?"

"Guess so."

"Be careful taking the bus back home."

"I will."

Ricky twisted the knob on the door and it clicked open. He stepped inside. "See you."

"See ya, kid."

He closed the door and leaned against it in the darkness of the house. He knew his parents had already gone to bed by this time, although they probably weren't asleep yet. He could just go straight down to his bedroom and hit the mattress, no questions asked. But he had an itch: an emotional itch that severely needed scratching. At the last minute he threw the door back open and saw Nora walking down the sidewalk. _"Mom!"_

Nora stopped and looked in Ricky's direction. Her mouth drew open into an oval shape.

Ricky darted out the door, across the lawn, and embraced Nora. So many emotions had been confusing his senses every since Nora's speech at the NA meeting. At this point he still wasn't sure if what he was doing was logically the right choice or not, but as he felt Nora's bony arms stretch around his back, it _felt_ pretty damn right.


	21. Pro Choices

**A/N: **So basically I've been updating each day all week and the **tslotatlover** says, "by the way need i mention that i absolutely love the fast updates! keep it coming!" And then I don't update for three days. I wasn't actually trying to be obstinate, it was just my brother's birthday this weekend, so I didn't get to finish this chapter when I wanted to.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Pro Choices**

The green lawn outside the church was covered in people and _stuff_. At first glance it looked like a garage sale, but upon closer inspection it became apparent that there was a common theme connecting the items displayed: there were plastic bins filled with receiving blankets, crib sheets, and crib bumpers; tables covered in infant, toddler, and children's clothing; a couple of assembled cribs and unassembled pieces of others; a massive cardboard box containing a menagerie of baby bottles, and several crates labeled_ DONATIONS _that had cartons of baby formula, baby cereal, jarred baby food, and some Pedialyte products in it.

Grace stood on the church steps just outside the doors wearing a pair of white capris, pale pink ballet flats, and a carnation pink t-shirt with the word _ABORTION_ across the front in white lettering. However, the B and the R were crossed out and the letters _D_ and _P_ were written above them, respectively. The blonde stood before a young Filipina woman, probably in her late twenties or early thirties, who herself stood in front of a man holding a news station camera.

"Miss Bowman, I've been told you're the reason for the events taking place today. Can you tell us a little bit about what's going on?"

Grace nodded cheerfully. "Well as you probably know, my local high school, Grant High, has a very high rate of teen pregnancy, as do many high schools around the country. Over the last two years I've been able to experience the joys and pains of teen pregnancy second hand: first through my best friend, Adrian, and most recently, through my friend Heather, who just gave up her daughter to adoptive parents early last month." She indicated the wording on her t-shirt. "After seeing my friends' struggles, especially Heather's, I was inspired to try and do something more to help other girls and young women like them, so they know that there are options out there and they don't have to harm their babies."

"So what, exactly, are you doing to help these young women?"

Grace smiled dazzlingly. "That's the best part!" she beamed. "I've implored the help of my friends, family, church, and community to come together and donate anything and everything that can help young mothers who want to keep their babies but might not have the resources to do so. If you walk around the lawn you can see we've set up donation areas for toys, cribs, bassinets, maternity clothes, food…_everything!_ Pretty much everything you see going on outside is to help struggling mothers-to-be. But if you go inside," she said, patting her hand against the doors, "we're also accepting collections to help people like Heather who are looking into adoption. We've got some booths set up that can help women look into all their adoption options, medical and healthcare options, and we're also accepting donations – such as clothing, food, and gift certificates – that can help these women successfully get through their pregnancies. I'm calling it the New Lease on Life Drive."

"So _everything_ we're seeing here will be donated?"

"Yep! I promise we're not making a single cent. I managed to wrangle in the help of a local social worker and very respected member of our community, Mrs. Margaret Shakur, who has some connections with various non-profit organizations and she will be helping us make sure everything gets to someone who needs it. _Everything_ we receive will be donated, so please,_ please_ come and donate! We can use all the help we can get!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"How many text messages is that now?" Ben asked when his girlfriend's cell phone went off again.

"I've stopped counting," Adrian said. She was standing in front of her daughter's high chair making zooming noises as she moved a spoonful of Beech-Nut Rolled Oats with Apple baby food in front of Mercy.

Mercy gurgled and reached out for the spoon but it was carefully guided into her open mouth and slipped out before she had a chance to lock her hands onto it. She smacked her lips in delight and her head bobbed up and down as she watched her mother dip the spoon back into the jar for another serving.

"Are you going to go down there today?"

"Are you?" she asked, avoiding the question.

"It seems like a pretty good cause," Ben admitted. "If it can help someone like Heather – or your mom, back when she was our age – I don't see how it can hurt."

Adrian sighed. "Yeah, I know, and I get that. I just don't want to go down to a faith based headquarters and give the wrong impression. Every woman deserves to do what she wants with her body, whether that means having a baby or not having a baby, and I don't want to seem like I'm jumping ship by showing up down there."

"She is your best friend," Ben argued. "And her heart is in the right place."

"Even if her political affiliation isn't," Adrian added sourly. "But this is why Grace and I can't talk politics for the sake of our friendship."

"I think I'm gonna go," Ben said finally. "I've got some clothes Mercy has grown out of back at my house and since we're definitely not planning on having anymore kids in the foreseeable future, all they're doing is taking up room in her closet."

Adrian sighed. "You'd better go get the boxes I packed up in my room too then." She rolled her eyes. "It's got the rest of her outgrown clothes in it that I had over here. And some toys she's no longer interested in either."

"So you _were_ going to go?" Ben smirked.

"If I didn't, I was just going to give those to Grace later after the fanfare was over, but since you're going anyway, it saves me the trip _and_ the moral dilemma." Adrian slipped another mouthful of food in between Mercy's lips. "I would've donated all my old maternity clothes too," she added as an afterthought, "but I already gave all of them to Heather, so I guess that's up to her whether or not she wants to donate them."

"Maybe I should stop over there on the way?"

"That's probably a good idea. See how she's doing and everything. Mercy and I just saw her yesterday, but she's still in a lot of pain. She mentioned she's planning on going back to school this Monday. I told her that I think she should take six weeks instead of three, since she's already going to summer school anyway, but she's pretty insistent on wanting to come back in four."

"The more work she gets done before the semester ends means the less work she has to put in over summer."

"I guess so."

Ben disappeared down the hall for a few minutes and then came back balancing two medium sized cardboard boxes in his arms. He set them on the kitchen table momentarily and paused to kiss Mercy on the forehead and Adrian on the cheek. "Are you coming over later?" he asked hopefully.

Adrian scowled. "Have you talked to your dad yet?"

"No," he muttered, looking away guiltily.

"I thought you were going to give him a _week_. It's been _four_!"

"Well you try talking to your mom about a life change this big after she catches us in the middle of 'making up' and you see how easy it is!"

"He hasn't said anything about it, right?"

"No, which probably means he's waiting for me to bring it up first."

"Well you need to talk to him, Ben. We only have about three months of school left."

"Great!" he chirped, once again collecting the boxes from the table and bolting for the door. "So I still have plenty of time then!"

"Ben!"

Mercy just giggled from her high chair seat as her father raced out the door, leaving her mother glaring after him.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Amy, hey!" Grace called, running up to the brunette who was standing at a booth that had been set up inside the church daycare center with pamphlets and information on options for child care and local child care facilities. "I wasn't expecting to see you here. I'm so glad you could make it!"

Amy ran her hand through a ripple of her shimmery sugar brown strands. "I came with my dad," she muttered.

Grace's smile fell. "Oh. Yeah, my mom said he was going to try and make it down here with some donations."

"Ricky's helping him unload some furniture around back." There were several pamphlets in her hand that she quickly tucked beneath the sweat jacket she was carrying.

"What're you doing back here?" Grace asked, choosing not to mention Amy's eyebrow raising behavior.

"Just wondering I s'pose." She shook her head. "I already dropped off some old stuff of mine and Ashley's out front."

"We have refreshments set up in the gym, if you want any."

"I'm fine, thanks." Amy lifted her arm to point. "I'm just gonna go…b-browse."

Grace nodded and watched her go, picking up speed as she moved away. Something fluttered out from under her jacket and she quickly bent down to pick it up. "Amy you dropped–" Her silver eyes fell to the flyer: an advertisement for the local free clinic, which listed options for abortion services. "This isn't one of ours." She looked again, but Amy was already gone.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Is something up between you and Ashley?" George asked. He was walking beside Ricky, both of their arms loaded down with cushions from a couch.

"Why, did she say something?"

"Nope. She just hasn't mentioned you lately and Anne says you haven't been around. Did you have a fight?"

"I guess you could say that."

"About what?"

Ricky reached the couch that the pillows belonged to just feet before George did and began to stuff the bottom cushions into place. "Nothing."

"Nothing is a lot to stop speaking to each other over."

"I'm sure we'll work things out," Ricky replied vaguely. "She just said she needed time."

"That's not good."

"Why do you say that?"

"When a Juergens woman says she needs time, that's _never_ good! Trust me: I've known many!"

"Well Ashley's not like other people: even other Juergenses." Ricky spun around. "Hey, uh," he said, attempting to change the subject. "The only thing left in the truck is a bed, right?"

"Yeah. It's not the best," George admitted. "It's a discontinued model. Nothing wrong with it, it just wasn't a popular sale. But I thought someone could get some use out of it, so I told Kathleen I'd bring it on down."

"Well I happen to know someone who could get some use out of it," Ricky said. "Ashley's mentioned Heather, right?"

George nodded. "Oh yeah. She's the one who just had the baby, right?"

"Yeah! Well, she's only got this dirty old thing she got out of the trash. I know that you meant to bring that bed here, but she's exactly the type of person Grace is trying to help, right? So, do you think you'd be interested in donating that bed to her instead?"

George checked his watch. "Where does she live?"

"The other end of town."

The older man scratched his head. "Well, I wasn't planning on getting back to the store pretty soon, but if you've got the time to move it with me, I guess that would be fine. That's what this whole fundraiser is all about, right?"

Ricky nodded. "Let me go track my mom down and make sure I can go with you. I don't think she'll mind though. Can I meet you back here in about fifteen, twenty minutes?"

George's belly growled. "That'll give me time to go hunt down some of Leo's free food," he said, nodding in satisfaction.

Ricky took off in the general direction of the last place he knew his mother to be. Truth be told, he was thankful to get away from George for a bit and avoid the older man grilling him about what had happened between him and Ashley. He'd only seen her a couple times in passing at school and he figured that if they had any chance at smoothing things out, he had to just wait it out until she was ready.

"Ricky! Hey, Ricky!"

Ricky groaned and slowed his to a trot. "How can I help you, Grace?"

Grace caught up with him and took a moment to catch her breath. "Have you seen Amy?"

"No, why?"

Grace shrugged. "I knew you were working with George, so I thought you might've seen her." She twirled a blonde strand between her index and middle fingers. "What about Ashley?"

"No," he replied a little too hard and a little too fast.

The tone of his voice gave Grave pause. "Well I just –" She bit her lip. "Never mind. It's not important. Look, if you see them, just tell them that I'm looking for them, all right?"

"Sure."

"Thank you."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben detoured to the kitchen before heading upstairs to collect his donations for Grace's community fundraiser and stopped short when he saw his father sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of golden liquid. From the smell of the kitchen, Ben guessed it was chicken broth. He stopped cold. "D-dad. I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"You seem to be doing that a lot lately," Leo said gruffly. He lifted the spoon to his mouth and sipped off the yellow-gold liquid.

Ben twisted his body around in odd angles, not sure whether to head for the fridge or turn right around and dash out of there. But, eventually, he did neither and just walked over to the table. "Why _are_ you here?"

"I think I'm coming down with something. Can't a man come down with something without being interrogated about it by his son?"

"I wasn't interrogating you," Ben said slowly. "I just wanted to talk."

"About what?"

"About…" He gulped and swallowed the lump in his throat so it could get acquainted with the knot in his stomach. "…what you saw last month."

"What I saw," Leo snorted. "What I saw was my sixteen-year-old son having sex with his girlfriend under my roof! That's what I saw!"

Ben gripped the seat of his chair. "Yes you did," he agreed. "And that's something that we should talk about."

"Yes we should! How could you be doing something so irresponsible, Benjamin? You already have one baby, do you really want another?"

"No! That's why Adrian and I were being careful."

"Careful? _Careful?_ Careful would be to abstain from sex! You know, if you listened to your friend Grace, you might learn a little something!"

"We're using condoms!"

"And didn't you say you used one last time too?"

"That was different!"

"How so?" Leo demanded, dropping the spoon into his soup and splashing the contents across the table.

"Adrian wasn't on the pill then and the condom was old!"

"So what?" Leo demanded. "Even a new condom can be defective! And the pill doesn't always work even when a woman is on it!"

"We also use spermicide…sometimes."

"That's not the point, Benjamin! I'm telling you that it's wrong for you to be having sex at sixteen when you already became a father at fifteen! I don't want to become a grandfather again for many, _many_ years!"

"I want to move out!"

The words seem to crash into Leo like a runaway crane. His body physically wavered in his seat as if he'd just been smacked. "You – absolutely not! I won't allow it!"

"It would be the best thing for us!" Ben continued, rising from his seat. "Me and Adrian and our daughter!"

"Haven't you been paying attention to anything I've just said? You're underage! You're too young to live with someone!"

"You and Mom married right out of high school!"

"And we were both eighteen! You aren't!"

"I'll be seventeen this summer!"

"Which is still not eighteen."

"Yeah, but you and mom also didn't have a baby at eighteen. Adrian and I do. I had to grow up a lot more than you ever did at my age."

Leo raised his hand angrily. "Don't you play that card with me, son. You have no idea what it's like to be an adult. You barely know what it's like being a father!"

"Which is exactly why Adrian and I want to move into together. We need to work on our relationship and learn to live with each other if we ever stand a chance at working through her first year in college and the years that will follow."

Leo glared. "And where exactly would you live? Let me remind you that you don't have any money and neither does Adrian. Certainly you wouldn't be moving in with her and Cindy."

"No. We'd be moving into the old condo: yours and Mom's. It's just sitting there, empty. Why shouldn't we use it?"

"Because I say you shouldn't!"

"Why?"

"You're underage!"

"You're being unreasonable! How can I grow up if you don't let me grow up?"

"I am letting you grow up! But not before you have to. I am responsible for you until your eighteenth birthday and until then, you will do what I say, when I say. And you won't do what I don't want you to!"

"Have you met your granddaughter?" Ben hissed. "It's a little late for that!"

"You're not moving out!" Leo roared. He slammed his fist down on the table, causing more soup to jump from the bowl. Suddenly be began to cough and his face started to turn red. He stood up and labored over to the sink for a glass of water. Once he was over his cough fit he slammed the glass down. "And that's _final!_"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Adrian, you came!"

"Don't get too excited, Blondie. I only gave to drop off this box that Ben didn't take with him."

"I'm just glad you came!"

"I still don't agree with your whole message though," Adrian remarked, narrowing her eyes disapprovingly at the blonde's shirt.

Grace looked at Mercy who was dressed on a blue onesie that read: _My Mom's Pro-Choice and so am I!_ The blonde literally bit down on her tongue to keep herself from saying anything. Instead she took the box out from behind the stroller. "I'm sure whoever the recipient of this donation is will appreciate it as much as I do." She tapped the side of the box. "It feels pretty light, what all is in here?"

"Just outgrown, gently used clothes."

"Are you staying long?"

"Nope. I'll probably just go find Ben and then we'll be off."

"I haven't seen him."

Adrian raised her brow in surprise. "He should've been here already."

Grace shook her head. "Maybe he went home to take care of his dad?"

"What's wrong with Leo?"

"You didn't know?" Grace frowned. "He wasn't feeling well earlier, so he left early. Said he thought he might be coming down with something – his eyes were kind of red and he seemed a bit snarfy – and he didn't want to spread it to anyone, so Camille came in to give Bunny backup with setting up."

"I had no idea."

"Well maybe – Amy!"

"What?"

Grace held up her finger. "I'll be right back!" She set the box down on the ground and raced across the lawn to catch up with the brunette. "Amy! I've been looking all over for you, thank goodness!"

Amy squirmed. "Yeah, I was just looking for my dad. He said he was on his way back from Heather's so he should be here any minute."

"Great, that gives us a few minutes to talk then." Grace took Amy's hand by the wrist and tugged her through the crowd over to some bushes around the church where nobody was poking around. As soon as they were alone the blonde tore the flyer out of her pocket and unfolded it. "You dropped this earlier."

Amy paled. "Oh."

"I know that this didn't come from my fundraiser," Grace said, indicating the abortion information listed on it with her fingernail. "Amy," she said slowly. "You aren't…I mean…you haven't…you aren't in a difficult position right now, are you?"

The blood poured into the brunette's face and she violently snatched the flyer out of Grace's hand. "Jimmy and I haven't done anything if that's what you're not-so-subtly asking!"

It was Grace's turn to turn red. "Have you 'done anything' with anyone else?"

"I thought you liked to see the best in people?" Amy demanded. "So why are you assuming that I lost my virginity to Jimmy? Or worse: cheated on him!"

"I'm sorry, Amy!" Grace squeaked. "It's just that flyer and the way you were going around the booths today…I thought you might be pregnant."

"Well I'm not. I've only ever kissed someone before."

Grace shamefully looked to her shoes. "I'm sorry," she said. "It was wrong of me to assume that."

"Yeah, it was."

"But…what are you doing with that flyer then? Where did you get it at?"

Amy let her shoulders slip down, mirroring Grace's deflated posture. "I got it from Ashley."

"Ashley?" Grace peeped in shock.

"I found it in her room the other night when I went to tell her to come down for dinner."

"What was she doing with it?"

"I don't know," Amy admitted softly.

"You don't think that Ashley could be…I mean, it's not possible that she…"

Amy closed her eyes. "I don't know," she said again. "That's why I took the flyer. That's why I was poking around the booths today. I haven't had the courage to ask her outright."

"But who could she have even been with? She doesn't have a boyfriend, does she?"

Amy shook her head. "No, she doesn't have a boyfriend…but she's got Ricky."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Ben, where are you?" Adrian asked, pressing her cell phone to one ear and her free hand to the other to block out the noise around her. She heard something that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle or gasp on the other end of the line.

"I'm at home."

"Are – are you okay? You sound…strange."

"I had a fight with my dad."

Adrian gulped. "You finally talked to him?"

"'Talked' isn't exactly the word I'd use."

"How bad is it?"

"Don't come over tonight."

Adrian closed her eyes. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Ben-" But the line clicked. Adrian stared at the disconnect message in disbelief.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Adrian whirled around at the familiarly sarcastic tone. "Ashley!"

The freshman looked nice in the jeans and forest green baby doll top she was wearing, but the oversized tweed bag that looped around her neck and hung in front of her stomach was a strange touch. "I couldn't help but overhear your side of the conversation. Are things not going very well with Ben?"

"It's not that. Things between the two of us are fine, but not between us and his dad."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

Ashley shrugged. "Okay."

"How about you?" Adrian asked, motioning her hand.

"What about me?"

"I haven't seen you eating with Ricky and Heather at lunch the past few weeks."

"I don't want to talk about it," she returned bluntly.

"Touché." Adrian set her cell phone into the cup holder on the back of Mercy's stroller. "If Ricky's being a dick, I can kick his ass for you if you want."

Ashley cracked a tiny smile. "Thanks, but I think I can handle it." She frowned. "Speaking of…"

Adrian turned to follow Ashley's line of sight and saw Ricky and George getting out of the latter's furniture van. "Since when do they hang out?"

"Since my dad asked him to help him move some furniture for him. Again." Ashley checked the watch on her wrist. "It's about time he got back. Of course now Amy's gone." She grunted. "I just want to get home. Is that too much to ask?"

"Sometimes the universe seems to think so."

"That's deep," Ashley smirked.

"Ash! Where's your sister?" George waved to Ricky who was conveniently slipping away as George approached. He smiled and nodded pleasantly to Adrian.

Ashley shrugged. "She could be nosing around anywhere."

"Do you really have to say things like that about each other? What is with this sibling vitriol lately?"

"Why don't you ask Amy?" Ashley fired back. "She's been the one snooping around in my things."

"You've caught her?" George inquired.

"Not yet."

"Then how do you know?"

Ashley rolled her eyes. "I'm psychic. Or – more likely – Amy's just not the brightest bulb in the box."

"Hey!" George chastised. "Don't talk about your sister like that! She's a very smart girl!"

"Not enough to not steal people's things and think they won't notice."

"What are you talking about?" George demanded.

"Yeah, Ashley, what are you talking about?"

"Oh look who's finally showed up!" Ashley glared at Amy and Grace as they approached, making it hard to tell whether or not she'd been responding to Amy's voice or Grace's appearance. Or both. "You and I both know what I'm talking about," the younger girl said pointedly.

"Why don't you spell it out for me?"

"M-Y F-L-Y-E-R."

Amy dug into her pocket and pulled out the folded flyer. "This?"

"I knew you could follow if you just tried." Ashley grabbed for the flyer, ripping it in half.

"Happy now?" Amy snapped.

"Why did you take it in the first place?"

"Why did you _have_ it in the first place?"

George, Adrian, and Grace exchanged looks at the escalating argument, not sure whether to butt in or let it come to a head.

"Because I was making them especially for our future step-sister's little shindig!" Ashley bit back. She pulled open the bag that was hanging in front of her stomach and yanked out a stack of flyers identical to the one Amy found. "I've been handing them out to people ever since I got here." She looked at Grace. "Think of it as my _donation_: informing women of the option you don't want them to have."

"Today was about promoting how important life is!"

"And I was promoting how important _choice_ is!"

"And where's the baby's choice?"

"There is no baby!" Ashley shot back. "Not until it's born and until that point, a woman has the right to do whatever she wants to with her own body!"

"I absolutely agree," Grace snapped back, surprising everyone around her. "If you want to cut off your own tongue, be my guest! _However,_ different DNA equals a different body, and since that body is _not_ yours, you don't have the right to murder it!"

"All right!" George hollered, physically sliding in between Ashley and Grace. "Ashley, Amy, to the truck, _now!_"

"I'll pray for you!" Ashley called sarcastically, dropping all of the flyers from her bag onto the ground before storming off towards George's moving truck.

George bent down and tried to collect as many of the flyers as he could before Adrian laid her hand on his arm. "I got it. I think it'd be best if you just took them home."

George looked guiltily at Grace. "I'm sorry." He looked down at the flyers in his hands, hesitated, and then headed for the truck.

A few of the papers swirled off into the parking lot with the breeze. Adrian bent down to pick up the rest and when she was through she just moved to the nearest table and dropped the stack down. "Ashley's right you know."

Grace just crossed her arms and stayed silent until Adrian grabbed one of the flyers from the stack, making a point to slide it into her purse, and then took off. When the latter was out of sight, Grace grabbed the stack and carried them over to a trash can. She took one last look at the advertisement and then dropped them into the bin, listening to them hit the bottom with a resounding _clunk_.


	22. Girls And Bad Boys

**A/N: **To the little anon who commented just to say that this story sucks because Adrian should be with Grace and not Ben, um, _no_. Spoiler alert! Gracian ain't happenin', but you probably already know that, because we both know you're just trolling. ;) To everyone else, thank you so much for all your reviewing! 100 reviews, yes! Also, to be on the safe side, this is a warning that I'm bumping the rating up to an M just for this chapter.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Girls And Bad Boys**

The sermon was nearly over and every Sunday it always captivated Grace's full attention, but today, there was only one thing that the blonde could focus on and he was sitting just across the aisle in the first row. She was trying her best not to stare, but she couldn't stop fidgeting on the uncomfortable wooden pew. As soon as the service was over and everyone rose to mingle and head to the gym for refreshments she bolted from her seat. "Grant!"

Grant stopped walking and turned around slowly with a small smile on his lips. "Hey, Grace. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"What?" Grant frowned. "Your church doesn't welcome new members?"

"It's not that, it's –"

"You're so hateful of me because of our breakup that you can't even let me come to your church on Sunday? Wouldn't the Lord disapprove of that?"

Grace ground her teeth together. "Have you been calling me?"

"What?"

"Have you been calling me?" she repeated. "Calling me and hanging up?" Grace mimed a phone with her hand as she spoke.

"Why would I do that?"

"That's not a 'no.'"

Grant scoffed. "I haven't been 'calling and hanging up.' There, are you satisfied?" His face softened and his shoulders sunk down. "Look, Grace, let me apologize: I didn't come here to make you upset and all we're doing is sniping at one another."

Grace took a deep breath. "Fine, then why did you come here?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? I just want to _talk_. Is that so terrible?"

"Grant?"

Grant instantly smiled in Kathleen's direction. "Hi, Mrs. Bowman. It's good to see you again."

"I thought that was you," Kathleen nodded. "It's nice to see you too. How have you been?"

"Good. And yourself?"

"Wonderful," Kathleen nodded. She set her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"I just thought I'd catch up on my prayers," Grant smiled. "And maybe hit Grace up for a chat, if that's okay?"

Kathleen nodded. "Oh, I'm sorry if I interrupted anything." She motioned her hand. "Tom and I will be visiting with Reverend Stone, so you know where to find us." She waved. "It was lovely seeing you, Grant."

"You too, Mrs. Bowman."

Grace held tight to the handle on her little white purse. "What did you want to talk about?" she relented. "I don't have all day."

"You're in such a rush," Grant laughed. "Come on, let's walk."

Grace made a face as she followed him down the aisle and then as she reached to grab for the double doors, he grabbed the handle first and held it open for her. Unlike all the other times he'd held the door for her, this time made her feel uncomfortable, but she bowed her head and stepped through anyway. The sun was blaring and she had to lift her hand to shade her eyes as soon as she got outside.

"So Griffin says you look pretty taken by Jason at school."

"That's really none of your business," Grace retorted. "Or Griffin's, for that matter. And anyway, if Jason is all you want to talk about, I will turn right around and go back inside right now."

Grant reached out and grabbed her hand as she started to turn around as if to make good on her threat. "Come on," he said, flashing a smile. "I was only breaking the ice."

Grace jerked her hand away from Grant's grasp. "Well pick something else."

"Okay…how're things at home, with George and your mother?"

"The same, essentially."

"So they're still dating?"

Grant nodded. He was keeping pace with her as they walked up the sidewalk that laced the church. "Maybe they were right for each other after all?" he suggested. "Maybe they got it right the first time and didn't even know it."

"I don't know about that."

"It's not a bad thing for people to make mistakes and it's beautiful when they can correct them."

"And then again, sometimes people find new love and the mistakes of their past are better left in the past." Grace stopped walking. "Are you sure you haven't called me?"

"I think I would know if I called you." Grant tilted his head. "Why? Has someone been bothering you?"

"No," she said, looking away.

"You're too good of a person to be a good liar, Grace."

Grace rubbed her forehead. "I've just been getting some prank calls, that's all."

Grant shrugged. "Oh." He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and spun the ring around on his finger. "Hey, I almost forgot, I have something for you. It's in my car."

"What?"

Grant motioned his arm, urging her to follow him into the parking lot. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your fundraiser yesterday."

"That's perfectly all right."

Grant popped the trunk and pulled out a large Kohl's bag. "Here."

"What's this?"

"Never mind the logo," Grant dismissed. "It's just a bunch of old stuff my mom and aunt dug out of their closets. Most of it is old maternity clothes, but it's all in great condition. A little outdated maybe, but nothing someone couldn't still get some good use out of. You're still able to take it, right? Even though I didn't get it to you yesterday?"

"Yeah, of course," Grace nodded, peeking into the bag. "I'll just make sure it gets to Margaret. It shouldn't be a problem. Thank you…and tell your mom and aunt thank you for me too."

"Will do." Grant shut the trunk and leaned against it. "My mom misses you coming over."

Grace shook her head so that a sheet of hair fell to the side of her face, blocking her view of Grant. "Tell her I said hello and that I hope she and your dad are doing well. Is his health better, by the way?"

"About the same."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'll be sure to keep him in my prayers."

"And I love you for that," Grant smiled.

Grace opened her mouth to protest that but thought better of it since it was just a figure of speech. She bounced the bag in her hand. "Well I'd better get back to my mom, we have plans."

"Oh? What kind of plans?"

"Just plans," Grace lied. She turned away. "Thanks again for the clothes. I'm sure someone will get a lot of good use out of them. See you!"

"See you, Grace."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Well this is fun," Adrian said dryly. "Just bumming around your backyard because your dad won't let you leave the house."

"On one hand I'm really, furiously angry with him," Ben said. "I feel like he really doesn't understand our position because he and my mom didn't even have me until they were thirty."

"But on the other hand?"

"I can _kind of_ see it: the way he must feel about us having sex. I keep imagining what it would be like if Mercy came up to me in sixteen years and said she wanted to move in with her boyfriend."

Adrian shook her head. "Mercy had better not be in our situation in sixteen years. I don't want her to carry on this legacy of teen motherhood."

"Alice says that it's statically more likely for the child of a teen mother to grow up and become a teen mother herself."

"I don't care what Alice says," Adrian said defiantly. "Statistics don't mean a damn thing. Our daughter is _not_ a statistic."

"That's not what I meant."

Adrian dropped her head. "I know what you meant, but it still made me angry. However, I get what you're saying about your dad. Maybe if I had a dad, he'd feel the same way about me moving in with you too."

"So if he doesn't let us move in together, then what?"

Adrian shrugged. "You'll be eighteen the summer before senior year," she sighed. "I guess you could move out then. It'll still be much harder though, since if we move out, we still need money for rent."

"Maybe my dad would let us stay in the condo for a year once I'm 'of age'?"

"Do_ you_ want to ask him?"

"Not really."

"I didn't think so."

"So I guess we're back to square one then."

"Guess so."

Ben sat down on the end of an elongated foldable pool chair and tapped the seat beside him.

Adrian seated herself beside him. "I don't want to fight with you again."

Ben grabbed her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap. "I don't want to fight with you either." He held her around the waist and kissed her collar bone.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"How was the first night on your new bed?"

"Pretty good," Heather said. "It's better than that piece of shit mattress I'd been using. I was even thinking of writing up George a thank you card." Heather looked Ricky up and down as she shut the door. "What are you doing here, anyway? You finally off restriction?"

"Not until next week, if I'm lucky. I just dropped by on my way to Adrian's for another study session."

"What happens next week?" Heather queried.

"My parents and I are meeting with Mr. Molina and the two teachers in the classes I got D's in. My mom said that if and when I bring my grades up to C's, both of them, not just one, she'll unground me."

"And is there any chance of that happening?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"Well you'd better get over to Adrian's and get studying instead of sneaking off to see me."

"I'm just worried about you."

"I know." Heather crawled onto her new bed and pulled the sheets up over herself. "Thanks, by the way."

"No problem." Ricky began to gather up some trash around the room. "Got anymore? I can take this down to the dumpster for you on my way out."

"Just whatever is in the kitchen and the bathroom."

"Cool." He paused by the door. "George asked me if I might be interested in some part time work this summer."

Heather raised her eyebrow. "That's great."

"Yeah, I don't know."

The redhead folded her arms. "Is this because of Ashley?"

"Maybe."

"What happened between you two anyway?"

"It's not important."

"Clearly that's not true, otherwise you wouldn't have brought up the fact that George offered you work. You want to get something off your chest, but you're just too afraid to do it. So I'll make it easy for you: did you and Ash have sex?"

Ricky paled. "Why would you even ask that?"

"Because her sister seems to think so."

"When did you talk to Amy?"

"Not important. So did you and Ashley have sex?"

Ricky shook his head. "We just kissed."

"Kissed? My oh my! I'm hurt, Rick. No kiss for me?"

"She kissed me," Ricky corrected.

"And you kissed back?"

"Maybe. Accidentally."

"And now it's all awkward between you?"

"Maybe."

"Mhm." Heather rolled over to grab a bottled water on the other side of her mattress and took a long drink. "Well my advice would be to just talk it out. If you don't have feelings for each other then there's no use ruining a perfectly good friendship over a measly kiss. Hell,_ I'll _kiss you if it makes her feel better."

"I'm sure you would," he laughed. "But I don't think that'll help things."

Heather rolled her eyes. "Well get going then. I've missed you hanging around. Amy and Grace are fine and all, but you and Ashley are my real peeps. So make sure you get those C's okay, otherwise your mom won't be the only one busting your balls about it."

Ricky snorted. "So noted. I'll see you later, Heather. Get well!"

"I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Don't come back before you're ready!"

"You underestimate me, Underwood!"

Ricky chuckled as he stepped into the bathroom and collected the trash bag from the bin, replacing it with the plastic Wal-Mart bag that was folded up underneath it at the bottom of the can. He then moved into the kitchen and did the same with the can under the sink. He stuffed everything into the kitchen bag, tied it up, and then hauled it over to the door. As he touched the door handle it thought about all the times he and Ashley had come over to Heather's after school just to hang out and all the conversations he'd had with Ashley in his car as he drove her back home. He missed that terribly and he knew Heather was right, but he was at a loss of how to make Ashley see that too.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Where's Mercy?" Cindy asked, poking her head into her daughter's bedroom.

"I'm tutoring Ricky tonight, so she's staying at Ben's."

"You look a little down, _Chica_. Did something happen between you and Ben again?"

"I thought we'd finally found some answers for some issues we'd been having and now it was all for nothing."

"Did he change his mind?"

"Ben didn't. His dad just said no."

"About what?"

Adrian closed her eyes. "Us moving in together."

"_Chica_, that's a big step! I'm not surprised his dad said no."

"I guess it shouldn't have come as a surprise to either of us, but it did, and it's a letdown."

"You don't have to rush things with Ben. You already have a good relationship." Cindy sat down beside her daughter and reached to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

"We're not trying to rush anything, we're just trying to think of what's best for the future."

"And I'm not saying that's a bad thing, but you also need to do what's best for your present. You get my drift?"

"_Si."_

"_Bueno." _Cindy slid off the bed. "You want me to heat you up anything before I head out?"

"I thought you had this next week off?"

"I do. I meant out for a date."

"Oh? New guy?"

"Same guy."

"That sounds serious…for you."

Cindy waved her hand. "Oh be quiet. It's just a couple of glasses of wine, nothing momentous."

"Bow chica wow wow," Adrian smirked, shaking her body against her headboard. When her mother had sufficiently turned begun to turn pink she finally stopped. "Do you think you have time to make me a grilled cheese?"

"I think I could do that," Cindy smiled.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Bless this time we have together as a family and know that we are grateful for each other. We are thankful for your many blessings and let us always remember to share with others, giving the same love and respect to everyone that we would give to one another. Amen."

"Amen," Kathleen said in time with her son. The circle of hands broke as she released her hands from Tom's and Grace's. "Thank you, Grace."

"My pleasure." Grace cut into a juicy piece of steak on her plate and dabbed it some brown sauce. "Thanks for dinner, Mom."

"Thanks fo' dinner, Mom," Tom agreed, digging into his mashed potatoes and gravy.

"You're welcome," Kathleen nodded. She lifted her glass of wine to her lips and took a sip. "So how did it go talking with Grant today, Grace?"

"Yeah," Tom agreed. "Do you loooove hi' again?"

Grace glowered. "I don't 'love him again,' I never loved him in the first place. We were in like and we weren't good for one another which is I don't like him anymore."

"He still seems like a nice enough young man," Kathleen said while slicing up her streak into strips.

"Nicer than Jason," Tom said.

"That's not very nice, Tom," Grace scolded. "You don't know enough about Grant _or_ Jason to make that type of judgment."

"Is Grant planning on attending service regularly?"

"I think he just came to drop off a donation for the New Lease on Life Drive." Grace took a drink of her milk and dabbed her napkin to her lips. "Anyway, I don't think this is an appropriate dinner conversation anyway." She looked to her brother. "Tom, did you have a good time over at Tammy's this afternoon?"

"Tammy an' I ha' fun," Tom grinned. "We play Xbox. Mom, we nee' a' Xbox!"

"Aren't those a little expensive, Tom?"

"You don' love me?" Tom asked, jutting out his lower lip and batting his eyelashes.

Kathleen chuckled. "You know I love you, Tom. But I don't know if you need an Xbox."

"Grace go' a car," Tom argued. "How come Grace get a car and I don'?"

"Because you don't have a license."

"Can I get license then?" Tom asked hopefully.

Kathleen narrowed her eyes. "Why don't we see about looking into how much an Xbox costs tomorrow, okay?"

Tom grinned mischievously. "Deal!"

The phone rang and Kathleen quickly pushed her chair back. "I'll get that."

Grace looked across the table disapprovingly. "Don't think I didn't see what you just did there. I need a car to get to school, Tom. You don't _need_ an Xbox."

"You don' _nee'_ a car," Tom volleyed back. "You can take the bus. I _nee'_ a' Xbox for me n' Tammy."

Grace rolled her eyes. "A relationship shouldn't be dependent on physical objects."

Kathleen set the cordless phone back into its charger and returned to the table. "That's strange," she shrugged. "It was another dead line."

"Another?"

"We've been getting them off-and-on over the last few weeks," Kathleen said dismissively. She stabbed her fork into her steak and lifted to her mouth.

Grace suddenly set her eating utensils down and pushed her plate away.

"Something wrong, honey?"

"I'm just suddenly not feeling so well." Grace eased out of her seat. "I think maybe I should go lie down."

"Do you want me to put your dinner in the microwave?"

Grace nodded. "Yeah, thanks." She carried herself up to her bedroom and shut the door. She gave a quick look around: the closet was shut, the blinds were closed, and nothing seemed out of place. She moved to her bed, then, out of that strange feeling that she was being watched even though she was alone, she moved to her closet and quickly pulled the doors open to find that it was just the way it always was. Grace rifled through her clothes and shoes, but it wasn't a very big closet, so it didn't take all that long. When she was finished she shut the doors again and moved to her bed. "So much for thinking about getting my cell number changed." She unplugged her cell from its charger and quickly dialed her boyfriend's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jason," Grace smiled, settling back into her pillows. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"I was just studying, no biggie. What's up?"

Grace pulled a pillow to her chest. "I was just…not feeling so well. I thought I'd call you and cheer myself up."

"Well I'm glad you did, because your voice always cheers me up too."

Grace felt stomach fluttering in a good way this time and slowly allowed herself to temporarily forget about her mysterious silent caller for a while.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"I got a D+ on my last quiz," Ricky explained, showing Adrian the slip of paper with the stated grade.

Adrian quietly reviewed his answers. "It looks like you're fine with dates but you struggle on the short answers."

"Dates are easy to memorize and put a name to, like numbers and equations, but it when it comes to talking about specific events and how they influenced something, I have a hard time with that. It's like suddenly everything swirls up in my head and I can't remember what this guy said to this guy to, I dunno, inspire him to start a revolution."

Adrian nodded. "What if we make a timeline then, since that seems to work for you? We'll take the time to physically draw one up with some specific names and dates, maybe a few quotes too, and then you can use that to study off of. If you can imagine it in your head: this happened, then this happened, then this happened…then it shouldn't be too difficult at also to translate that into a paragraph about the buildup to event X or Y."

"I guess that might work."

"Great." Adrian stood up. "Let me go get the crayons."

"Crayons?" Ricky chuckled. "Are we in Kindergarten?"

"Back to basics," she taunted. "And they're the big fat ones too!"

"Ah!" Ricky groaned. "I always hated those!"

"Me too!" she said, her laugh disappearing down the hallway.

"Do ten-month-olds really color?" Ricky asked when Adrian entered the living room again.

"Technically she won't be ten months until Thursday," Adrian corrected. "But to answer your question: it isn't so much 'coloring' as it is Ben putting the crayon in her hand and then guiding her hand around the paper in scribbles." Adrian motioned to the refrigerator where there was a yellow piece of construction paper with a scribble composed of multiple crayon colors. We've dubbed that one 'The Blob' after the movie of the same name."

Ricky sobered up a little as the Latina came to sit down next to him and tape a few pieces of scratch paper together, end to end. "She's a cute kid; clearly, she takes after her mom." He scooted towards her a little more. "You know, if you ever need a babysitter or anything-"

"I think we've got that covered," Adrian interrupted. But after seeing the look on his face she added, "But I'll keep you in mind if it were to ever come up." She picked up a red crayon. "I have to admit, you did seem to have a way with her that day I woke up and found you playing with her out here in the living room last month."

"She was a lot of fun."

"You're getting way too soft, Ricky."

"Says the former Bad Girl of Grant High."

"Is this what 'old age' does to us?" Adrian asked playfully. "Turn us into crayon toting softies?"

Ricky picked up a blue crayon and tapped it against Adrian's red one like they were light sabers. "If you'd asked me three years ago what I'd be doing now, this was the last thing I could imagine. What's the last place you could imagine being three years from right here?"

Adrian studied him for a long time and when she seemed ready to answer, the words that came out of her mouth instead were: "We'd better finish this."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Grace, hey, I've been looking all over for you."

"You just saw me yesterday at church," Grace said, staring at Jack confusedly.

"Yeah, I know." Jack lounged against the lockers. "But I just got some news last night that I wanted to share with you. In person."

"Why?"

"Because it affects the whole congregation and I wanted to give you a heads up before my dad makes the announcement this Sunday."

"Announcement?" Grace asked. "What's so important?"

"I'm moving. My whole family. My dad got a job offer to become head of the philosophy department at his old alma mater. I guess it's a really big deal for him and it comes with a big pay raise too, way more than he's making at the church."

"But didn't Reverend Stone grow up in Arizona?"

Jack nodded. "That's the only downside. We have to move to Phoenix."

"But – but next year is your senior year!"

"I know," Jack said sadly. "But I don't really have a choice. It's not like I could go live with a friend," he said sarcastically.

"So when are you moving?"

"This summer, probably as soon as school is out. My parents are already looking into houses down there. They need to find one soon so I can get enrolled in school and hopefully get onto the local football team, wherever I end up."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Jack." Grace laid her hand on his shoulder. "I'm happy for your father though, if that's really what his passion is. We'll certainly miss having him at the church."

Jack nodded. "The church has been so good to us – especially you and your family who have been such big parts of the church – that we'll miss you too."

Grace suddenly leaned in and gave Jack a hug. "I know we've had our problems," she sighed. "But I do want you to know that I forgave you a long time ago and I will miss you. But thanks for telling me ahead of time."

"Yeah." Jack pulled away. "I guess I'll see you around. Maybe we can hang out a time or two before the move, huh?"

Grace nodded. "I wouldn't mind that," she agreed as the bell rang overhead. "I'll see you later, Jack!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Still fighting with Ashley?" Ben asked as Amy switched seats along with half of the rest of the class to sit by their lab partners.

"How ever did you know?" she asked sarcastically.

"Lucky guess." Ben pulled their worksheet out of his backpack and smoothed the bent corners on the bottom. "I heard there was a big Bowman-Juergens blowout too."

Amy blew a puff of air out of her nostrils. "Everything just sucks right now."

"I hear that."

"I heard my mom talking on the phone last night. Well, arguing on the phone. She wants my dad to pay more child support."

"Is he going to do it?"

"I don't know," Amy sighed. "But if he doesn't, it sounds like she might be thinking of selling the house."

"What?"

"I know! She already canceled our cable and house phone, but I guess she's still not earning enough to keep afloat."

"So how is having a monthly rent going to help?"

"You took the words right out of my mouth." Amy shrugged and began to angrily scribble answers onto their worksheet. "Maybe she's thinking of just buying a smaller place so she can shove Ashley and I into one bedroom and see how well_ that_ works out. Maybe if we kill each other then she won't have to worry about money issues."

Ben set his hand on top of Amy's to stop her from writing. "I'm sure it won't get to that point."

"How can you be?" she asked. "You've got a freaking mansion, Ben. I've barely got my own room." Amy slid her hand out from under Ben's and turned her head away. "I'm sorry," she whispered quietly. "I don't mean to take this out on you. I'm just having a bad day, that's all."

"No worries. I've had plenty myself recently. Not like yours, but…you know what I mean."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The door bell had wormed its way into Grace's dream under the guise of an egg timer and the blonde awoke on the couch thinking that she'd left her cookies in the oven too long. As her mind cleared of its sleepy haze she realized there was no smoky smell that usually accompanied burnt cookies and that the door bell didn't sound at all like an egg timer. Groggily she pushed herself off the couch and went to answer the door. To her surprise it wasn't Jason or George like she'd assumed. "Grant, what are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you."

"I thought we did that yesterday?"

"I didn't get a chance to say everything I wanted to say."

Grace shook her head. "Look, no offense Grant, but I have homework so I don't have time and frankly, I really have nothing to say to you anyway."

Grant shoved his foot in the doorway. "Please?" he begged. "Just hear me out?"

Grace sighed and eased up on attempting to shut the door. "Go ahead."

"Grace, I know it's been over three months, but I can't get you out of my head. Every day that we've been apart has been hell on my heart." He touched his hand to the left of his chest. "We were so good together, Grace. I know I fucked up, but-"

"I'm with Jason. I'm with Jason and that is all I am going to say to you. So please leave now!"

Grant held his foot firmly in the door. "Grace-"

"I'm not asking you to go, Grant. I'm _telling_ you."

Grant stared into her hard eyes for a long beat and then began to move his foot out of the doorway. Just as the door was closing Grant wedged his hand into the frame and the door slammed on his hand.

Grace gasped at the sight of Grants fingers on her side of the door and his simultaneous cry of agony. She pulled the door back open. "Oh God! Why did you do that?" she gasped.

Grant wrapped one hand around his swelling and slightly bleeding fingers. His eyes were tearing up. "Do you have some peroxide or Band-Aids?" he asked, his voice shaky.

Grace pressed her hand to her forehead in defeat. "Come on," she said, taking him gently by the arm and leading him towards the stairs. "I can fix this up in the bathroom, but then I am serious, you _have_ to leave."

"I understand." Grant took each step slowly in time with Grace, wincing the whole way. When they got into the bathroom Grace quickly turned on the cold water and instructed him to run his hand under it while she turned to the medicine cabinet to search for supplies.

Grace combed through the shelves pulling down a bottle of rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, a roll of gauze, and some Neosporin. "It looks like we're out of peroxide, so this might hurt more than you were expecting, but-" Her voice was cut off by Grant's wounded hand cupping her mouth. Everything in her hands fell either into the sink with the water still running or to the floor.

Grant slammed the medicine cabinet door shut and pulled Grace to him so that she could see their reflections in the mirror. He pressed his mouth to her ear. "I need you, Grace. I need you with me; I need to hear your voice every day." He shook his head as Grace tried to scream against his hand, but it only came out a muffled sound. "Why do you always hang up on me? I only hung up the first time, by accident. I was so surprised you answered."

Grace struggled against him, but his grip on her was too strong. She could see her face turning red and the tears bowling down her cheeks in the mirror. She tried to plead with him, but her words only hit his swollen fingers in a muffled mess.

"I can't stand knowing you're with that goody two shoes," Grant whispered. "He's no good for you, Grace. He can't appreciate you like I can. Don't you see that? Don't you see how perfect we were together?"

Desperately, Grace began to nod, trying to reason with him.

"See?" he said, smiling. "You're finally getting it. You don't need Jason, you just need me!"

Again, Grace nodded fervently against his hand until his fingers lifted from her mouth. "You hurt me," she said. "And I was so hurt that I turned to Jason…I don't even care about Jason, he was just a rebound."

"Exactly!"

"So why don't we talk?" Grace suggested, her voice tight and words dripping with fear. "Just like you wanted! We can talk until my mom gets home and then we can tell her that we're back together!"

"So you agree that you're my girlfriend again?" Grant asked.

Grace nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course! I – I –" Her voice shuddered. "I l-love you."

Grant pressed his swollen hand to Grace's right cheek and turned her head as far as it would go, leaving small bits of blood on her cheek. Then he leaned in and kissed her. "I love you too, Grace. But I'm afraid at this point, I'm going to need a little more than just your words to know that."

Grace felt her whole body instantly prickle with goose bumps. "We can m – make out on the couch if you want…"

Grant shook his head. "I'm not talking about making out, Grace. I'm talking about making _love_."

Grace dug her toes into the tips of her shoes. "We're not married," she said.

"_Yet._ In some cultures all it takes is the promise of marriage to make sex before marriage okay…as long as the couple make good on that promise in the end."

Grace began to shake her head. "That's not part of my culture!"

Grant pressed his hand to Grace's mouth again. "It's okay, Grace. I promise to be gentle with you."

Grace tried to scream again to no avail. Then she began to kick and tried to flail, but Grant just lifted her off of her feet and carried her into her bedroom, slamming the door behind them.


	23. I Got You, Baby

**A/N: **This was a very difficult chapter which was the reason it's taken so long. I wanted to get it right.Once again, this one will be rated M just to be on the safe side, even though there is nothing explicitly graphic. It does deal with very uncomfortable themes. Don't read if you can't handle that.

_**Turning Tables**_

**I Got You, Baby**

In the aftermath, all of her senses became tainted with surrealism: she could hear every sound, especially her own breathing, in her ears in the way that one does when you cover your hands over your ears and the noises that your body makes every second of the day become amplified. Her sense of touch was surprisingly numb. She could feel things, but her ability to recognize texture or temperature was non-existent. It was as if every limb on her body had fallen asleep, but the pins and needles hadn't set in yet. Her ability to smell was in overdrive, but it had been reduced to just one scent: blood. Her ability to taste was one better: blood, from the many times she'd bit down on her tongue or lips or inner cheeks, smeared with the taste of Grant's mouth. And finally, her eyes saw everything as if in a cartoon: bigger than it actually was, the colors and tones slightly off, and sometimes things even seemed to be moving on their own.

Grace only vaguely remembered lying on her bed for a long time after he had zipped up his pants, kissed her lips that finally had no more fight left in them, and promised to see her tomorrow. She didn't even know how she finally ended up in the bathroom, kneeling at the bowl of the toilet. But once the seat was up she lurched forward and vomited. She felt like a snake, regurgitating the whole body of its last meal. The process repeated, on and off for hours until there was nothing left in her stomach that she began to dry heave. At some point her mother and Tom returned home and she recalled a knock at the door and her mother's voice asking if she was all right, but she hadn't the ability to respond, let alone move from her embracement of the toilet.

She crawled into a fetal ball on the bathmat that night and tried to sleep, but each time she closed her eyes she replayed everything in her mind like a defective DVD player stuck on repeat. Everything happened in flashes depending on how long her lids swept over her eyes. Every groan of the bed frame, every squeak of the mattress springs echoed in her mind. She wasn't sure how long it went on, her fighting for dreamless slumber against her memories. Maybe minutes? Maybe hours? The passage of time was irrelevant: it all felt the same in the end. Eventually she gave up and she stayed awake, staring at the intricacies of the tangled, fuzzy pink fibers of the bathmat she was lying on.

By the time morning had come, Grace only knew that it was so because she heard her mother's television turn on down the silent hallway. Her mother turned on the news every morning and listened to it as she performed her early morning stretches. Knowing that meant that it was likely around six in the morning. Slowly Grace hugged the toilet bowl. It smelt foul, she realized. Her sense of smell was coming back. So was her sense of touch, as when she stood up, her entire body ached from the position she'd been in all night and, more to the point, what it had endured less than twelve hours before.

Grace crawled over the side of the bathtub, still half-clothed, and yanked the shower curtain to the edge to block out the overhead lights. She sat in the cold tub for a while in the shadow of the curtain and then reached for the dial above the faucet. As her hand landed on the clear knob she studied it: small cuts with crusted bits of dried blood and three broken nails. She curled her fingers around the knob, turning it to hot until it would go no further, and then she pulled it back. Cold water surged out initially and once flushed out it began to grow warmer and warmer until it blistered her exposed toes. Finally she grabbed the miniature silver knob on the faucet and pulled it up. The shower hissed as the water stopped gushing from the faucet and reversed direction in the pipes, exploding instead from the shower head.

The scalding pellets hit Grace's white skin like hard chunks of hail, leaving red dots that gave her the appearance of being stricken with chicken pox. Eventually, her hair and clothes were sopped and clinging to her head, face, and body like a second skin. From where her chin was rested on the tops of her knees, she could see the water swirling down the silver ringed drain. It was clear at first, then it took on a pink tinge, and finally it was red.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian stepped over through the doorway leading into her calculus class and stepped aside, stopping to evaluate her peers who were already seated. After moving her head back and forth twice she concluded that the person she was looking for wasn't there and was about to make a move for her usual seat when Jason walked in. Her dark eyes locked onto him and watched as he moved to the seat he usually sat at on the left side second row. She made a dash across the room after him and took a seat behind him.

Jason glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, Adrian, have you –"

"–seen Grace?"

Jason shook his head after he finished his sentence in time with Adrian. "I'm afraid not. I waited by her locker this morning but she never showed up."

Adrian nodded. "Yeah, I saw you." She pulled out her calculus books, pencil, and notebook without looking at him.

"Did you guys have a falling out?"

"Why? Did she say we did?"

"She just said you had a disagreement."

"About?"

Jason shrugged. "She didn't say, but I surmised it must have had something to do with her New Lease on Life Drive since I didn't see either of you talk at all yesterday."

"And so she just didn't show up at all today?" Adrian asked, redirecting him back to her original inquiry.

"I haven't seen her."

Adrian raked her hand through her hair. "Was she acting particularly angry yesterday?"

"No." Jason turned halfway around. "Maybe she's just not feeling well today? If you had your 'disagreement' over the weekend I don't see why she'd wait until Tuesday to avoid seeing you at school. That is where you're going with this, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Jason scratched the back of his neck. "I can give her a call at lunch, if you want."

Adrian smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem."

The bell rang as a couple of kids ran in just after. Adrian saw the teacher make a couple of discreet tardy marks on her roll sheet from the corner of her eye. She turned her attention to the clock. It was only months ago that they were fighting about Grant and it had been an immense relief to finally work past that. Now it seemed that they might be fighting again, something that Adrian had specifically tried to_ avoid_ fighting over. But as the smell of white board markers began to saturate the room, she tried to shake off her thoughts in the hopes that Jason was right, and Grace really had just not shown up for a legitimate reason that had nothing to do with what had occurred on Sunday.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"So how's the first day back been?" Ricky asked, walking up behind his redheaded friend as she stooped over the water fountain, trying to get a decent drink.

"Everything hurts and I have a list about ten people I want to punch."

Ricky curled his fist. "Anybody I know?"

Heather grinned. "Actually, you might be familiar with one or two." She hobbled away from the water fountain and greeted Ricky with a hug.

"I looked for you this morning."

"Uh, yeah. I accidentally slept in. It's all your fault."

"How's that?"

"Nice comfy bed ring any bells? Anyway, I missed the bus and since I was going to be late for my first class anyway I just said screw it."

"Isn't that the motto of teenagers today?"

"Hey, Ash," Heather smirked. She quickly exchanged a hug with the brunette. "How's it hangin'?"

Ashley took a quick look at Ricky. "Limply?"

Heather chuckled. "Well I've got an essay I have to turn into my English treacher – I mean, _teacher_ – and I'll catch up with you two kids at lunch. _Play nice!_"

Ricky waved as the redhead staggered up the stairs. Even when she was gone he continued staring at the stairs before finally turning to Ashley. "So…"

"So…"

"I'm glad Heather's back."

"Yeah."

Ricky turned to look Ashley in the eyes. "Are we back?"

Ashley shifted her eyes up and down. "I guess I can play nice if you can."

"What does that mean?"

"No more kissing. Kissing just makes things weird."

Ricky grinned. "We can't have that."

"No."

"So we're friends again?"

"Still," she corrected. "We're _still_ friends."

The drummer took a peek at his watch. "We've still got two minutes of passing period left." He offered his hand. "So, friend, can I walk you to class?"

Ashley let a tiny smile play at the corners of her mouth and quietly laid her hand into his.

Ricky let out a pent of breath he'd been holding in. Although she didn't say anything the entire walk to her class, her hand in his was enough to reassure him that they would soon be able to get back to their normal routine and that alone lifted the world off his shoulders.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Grace? Grace!"

Grace stood in front of the sink, wrapped in a dark blue towel, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was messily stuck to her head but had begun to dry in a way that appeared as though she had used too much jell or hairspray on it. There were also a couple of flyaway strands around her face. The latter looked entirely normal, save for the dull, listless look in her normally shiny eyes. They looked like a stormy sea, not their typical glimmering silver. And instead of a smile on her lips, there was a small but noticeable split at the center of her bottom lip from where she'd accidentally bitten herself.

"Grace!"

The blonde peeled away her towel and looked down at her exposed body. Fresh bruises in varying shades of plump dotted her hips, torso, and breasts. One even looked vaguely like a handprint, if she stared at it long enough.

"Grace, if you don't open the door, I will!"

With a sigh Grace closed her towel back up and finally unlocked the door to find her mother with her fist raised, ready to bang on it again. She gave her a blank stare.

"Gracie, have you been in here all night?" Kathleen pressed her hand to the side of her daughter's face and tilted Grace's head back. "What happened to your lip?"

Grace pushed her mother's hand away with the side of her face. "I don't feel well."

"What happened?" Kathleen insisted.

Even though there was nothing left in it, Grace's stomach swirled at the mere mention of telling her mother the vile, humiliating, horrid things that she had been subjected to. "I don't feel good."

"I tried to talk to you last night," Kathleen said. "You sounded like you were in here getting sick but you wouldn't answer me."

"I am sick."

"Is that how you got the cut?" Kathleen asked. "Were you throwing up all night?"

Grace closed her eyes and nodded. The nod, of course, was meant to answer the second question, even if her mother took it as an answer to both.

"What did you eat yesterday?"

"I – I don't remember."

Kathleen touched the side of Grace's head and brushed her fingers down over her daughter's hair. "Why don't you go climb into bed and I'll bring you some chicken soup and soda crackers?" she suggested.

Grace just nodded and moved by her mother. As soon as she got into her room she closed the door and walked over to her bed. The sheets were drawn up, but rumpled and half falling off the sides. With a shaking fist she grabbed a handful of the sheets and pulled them back to reveal a few articles of clothing that she'd been wearing the day before. When she picked those up the pink sheets revealed a dry, rusty colored circle at the center with smatterings of the same color everywhere else. She quickly tore off the top sheet and blanket, threw them and the clothing into a heap on the floor, pushed her pillow off the bed, and then viciously yanked the bottom sheet off.

Although the blood had soaked through the sheet, the mattress itself was covered in a water proof plastic cover, a bed wetting precaution that had never been removed from her mattress when she was a child. Grace grabbed a fistful of tissues from her Kleenex box and spit onto the dried stain. She rubbed it with the tissues until the color was gone from the white plastic slip and the tissues were instead a brownish-red. She threw them into her waste basket and proceeded to remove the pillow case from her pillow, throw it onto the pile, and then wadded everything up.

At first she moved to her laundry basket and planned to put them at the bottom, then she shook her head, fearing her mother might decide to do laundry. With her arms still loaded down she looked up to the top shelf of her closet. _Nothing._ Then she tilted her head down and looked into the back of her closet. _Bingo._ There were three dark pink plastic bins which she used to store her non-seasonal clothes. Currently, they were filled with her long sleeved fall and winter clothing. She dropped the pile onto the floor and wrangled out the top bin. When she pulled the top off it was only half full. She quickly shoved the wad of sheets on top and punched them with her fists until they were all stuffed inside enough to get the lid on, despite the tight fit. Knowing time was of the essence, she pulled out the second and third bins and then placed the bin with her hidden sheets on the bottom and stacked the other two bins on top of it.

Satisfied, she closed her closet and then moved to her bedroom door. Grace peeked into the hallway, looking left, right, and then left again as though she were about to cross a busy street. Then she slipped down to the linen closet and pulled out a fresh set of floral sheets and a spring green blanket. As she closed the door she stopped and could vaguely hear her brother's and her mother's voices wafting up from downstairs. Grace hugged the bundle of sheets to her chest as she returned to her bedroom, shut the door, and remade her bed. However, she stood there staring at it until she heard footsteps in the hallway, then she reluctantly climbed under the covered and closed her eyes, pretending to have been sleeping the whole time when her mother finally came in.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

The clock face on the butcher shop wall informed that the time was sometime after five-thirty but sometime before five-thirty-five. It didn't have the minute ticks so Ben couldn't be sure, but he suspected it was about five-thirty-three. It had been an unbelievably slow day at the butcher shop too. Not only for party planning and advising, but even just for customers, orders, and shipments. Everyone was awkwardly mulling around trying to find something to do to keep them busy so Bunny wouldn't scold them for slacking off.

The bell above the door rang and Ben's head shot up. "Henry," he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Henry waved a stapled paper booklet at his friend. "They finally mailed out the courses scheduled for next year," he said, walking up to the counter. "You taken your break yet?"

Ben shook his head and looked at the clock again. He'd been planning to take it later, but since Henry was there and nobody was around he motioned to a man working in the back. "I'm taking my ten!"

"'Kay!" the guy hollered back.

Ben skirted out from behind the counter and motioned to Henry to come take a seat with him by the window. "Anything good?" he asked hopefully.

"Just the usual: math, English, and history requirements. There are not a whole lot of options, but I figure we can at least take some teachers together so we don't have to suffer alone. Mrs. Marsters isn't listed as teaching English anymore, which is bull."

"Probably because of her engagement," Ben nodded. "I heard her husband was in the army, so maybe she has to move?"

Henry shrugged. "The name that's replaced her is 'Tuppence.' Not sure if that's a dude or a chick, but we could give it a shot."

"That's always risky, though. You never know if they're gonna be great or a hardass."

"I could see if I can find anything about her or him online. Like on Rate My Teacher."

Ben nodded in agreement. "Good idea."

"Hey, have you taken a foreign language yet? I was thinking we could take Spanish together or something."

Ben gave him a sheepish look. "Sorry, Henry. I was thinking I might take Italian for my foreign language, since I already picked quite a bit up during my summer in Bologna anyway."

"Oh." Henry grunted. "Well, _crap_. I was willing to take Japanese with Alice, but she refuses to take it with me because she says already fluent in Japanese and she's not going to take the class just for an easy A when she can already pass the test."

"I don't know what to tell you, man."

Henry shook his head in despair. "Well there's nothing else I can take with her next year because she's got all those goody-goody AP classes, so I guess it's just you and me for the basics." He nudged Ben. "Unless you want to rethink the foreign language one." When Ben opened his mouth Henry held up his hand. "Just think about it," he said, cutting Ben off before he even started. He glanced at the clock. "Anyway, call me after you've gotten home and have had a chance to look this thing over, okay?"

"Will do. Thanks, Henry." A phone started to ring somewhere in the back room. Ben pushed himself up from the table as the bell above the door jingled again, this time as Henry was leaving. He pressed his right fingers to his left palm and cracked his joints then repeated the process with his left rings against his right palm.

"Break's up!" Bunny called, walking out from the back room. "You've got a telephone advisement, party planner."

Ben pushed through the swinging down to get behind the counter, not acknowledging Bunny directly, but heading in the direction of the phone nonetheless. As achingly slow as work was going, he was surprised to find himself wishing he was back in class. With a groan he plopped down in the chair in the back room and picked up the phone Bunny had left on the desk. "Hello, Boykewich Butcher's. Ben speaking, how may I help you?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"What in the world?" Adrian breathed as she pulled up to the curb in front of Grace's house. She could see what looked suspiciously like Grant's car driving away down the road, but she couldn't catch the driver to be sure or not. "What the hell would that little freak be doing here?" She shook her head, scowling as she got out of her convertible and jogged up the walkway to the porch. Her manicured nail pressed against the doorbell and the Latina waited, arms folded, not sure what she would say if Grace was the one to open the door. Much to her relief, it was Tom.

"Adwian!" he called, giving the Latina the grin he reserved only for her.

"Hi, Tom," Adrian sighed. "Is Grace home?"

"She sick," he said. "Bu' you ca' come in an' see me." He pulled the door back and motioned his arm enthusiastically.

"Tom, who is it?" Kathleen's voice called the direction of the living room. A moment later there were footsteps and the elder woman appeared. "Oh, Adrian!" She approached behind Tom and laid her hand on her son's shoulder. "Why don't you go check on the roast for me, Tom?"

Tom screwed up his face in protest but wiggled his hand at Adrian in defeat anyway. "Bye, Adwian."

"See you later, Tom."

Kathleen quickly filled the spot her son had vacated. "I'm sure you must be here to see Grace, but she's not feeling well right now."

"She's not?"

Kathleen shook her head. "I think she was up all night with an upset stomach. She's upstairs sleeping right now. But I'll be sure to tell her you and Grant stopped by when she wakes up."

"So Grant was here?" Adrian asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, just before you rang the doorbell, actually. I thought it was a little strange. He and Grace haven't really spoken much since they stopped seeing each other, but maybe they're on more friendly terms since we saw him at church."

"He was at church?"

"On Sunday," Kathleen nodded. "He dropped some donations off for Grace's drive." She shrugged. "Anyway, like I said, I'll let her know you were here."

"Tell her I hope she's feeling better."

"I will," Kathleen nodded. "Hopefully it's just a twenty-four hour bug or something. She got a flu shot in January, so I hope it's nothing too serious."

"Thanks, Mrs. Bowman." Adrian wrung her hands together. "I guess I'll see you later."

"Goodbye, Adrian."

Adrian waited until the door shut to turn around and stomp off the porch. Just the idea that Grant had been over made her mad, even though she knew it shouldn't. Grace, after all, had become friendly with Jack eventually, despite the way their relationship had ended, so she knew it shouldn't surprise her if Grace wanted to have a platonic friendship with Grant too.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Up in her room, Grace's cell phone was vibrating on her dresser, next to a cold bowl of chicken broth and a tea plate of saltines. Grace rolled over and stared at the vibrating phone until it was silent again. After a long moment to make sure that it would not start in again, she picked up the cell and flipped it open to read: _1 New Voicemail_. Grace let her thumb fall against the Call button and listened as the ringer echoed in her ear.

The electronic voice announced: "You. Have. One. New. Voicemail. To listen: press one."

Grace punched her thumb against the keypad again and swallowed uneasily.

"Hello, Grace," Grant's voice echoed. "I came over to see you today, but your mom said you were asleep. I didn't mean to tire you out yesterday. Sweet dreams, Baby. I'll see you soon. I love you."

"End. Of. Message. To save: press five. To delete: press –"

The phone flew into the wall and the battery popped out on impact, the pieces landing at least a foot away from one another, with the battery resting atop the heater vent. Grace rolled over and kicked the covers off of her body in a violent rage. She crawled off her bed and slid to the floor, leaning her back up against the bed and pulled her knees to her chest.

There didn't seem to be any words to describe the things she was feeling. She didn't even know it was _possible_ to describe the things that she was feeling. She felt lost, like a single speck of dust whirling inside a raging tornado. The only time that she had ever felt a similar feeling of powerlessness had been when her father had died, but this time it was different: there had been anger and so much overwhelming sadness. There was all of that this time too, but in addition, she now felt _filthiness _and pure, unadulterated _loathing_. With no idea how to process that, she just chose to bury her face into her knees and sob.


	24. Been There, Graced That

**A/N: **In response to the question about why Ben is taking Italian, I always got the impression that Ben didn't get into speaking Italian until after his summer in Italy. For the purposes of _Turning Tables_, Ben only knew a few Italian phrases here and there, but was nowhere near fluent. Enough, for example, to be able to tell Mercy that he loves her in Italian, such as at the end of "And Unto Us, A Daughter Is Born." In my mind, Sarah used to tell Ben that she loved him in Italian, although I don't think I've ever stated that in TT. (As a point of interest, in the show wasn't Sarah 100% Italian and Leo is half Italian and half Jewish? So that would make Ben 75% Italian and 25% Jewish. Adrian is 50/50 Colombian/Mexican. So Mercy is about 37.5% Italian, 25% Colombian, 25% Mexican, and 12.5% Jewish. Sarah could be questionable, but I'm pretty sure the Jewish thing was referenced in season two, but I can't remember the episode. In any case, that's what I'm going by for Ben's ancestry in this fic. I know this probably sounds pretty pedantic, but genealogy is a hobby of mine, so please don't take this – very long author's note – as coming off snippy or rude.) So basically my POV for the purposes of this story is that after Ben spent his summer with Adrian and Mercy in Italy and he picked up some more Italian, it got him interested in wanting to take an Italian foreign language course, but as of this point, he isn't _fluent_ in Italian the way Cindy and Adrian are fluent in Spanish and English.

_**Turning Tables**_

**Been There, Graced That**

"Grace, you were out sick from school almost all of last week, you stayed in bed all weekend, and you were out yesterday as well. It's been a week! I don't think this is normal," Kathleen said. "I'm going to book you an appointment with the doctor –"

"No!" Grace bolted upright in bed.

Kathleen jumped from the edge of the bed in surprise. After recovering from the shock she leaned in and pressed her hand to the teenager's forehead. "You don't feel feverish," she frowned.

"I'll go to school," Grace said urgently. "I don't want to go to the doctor!"

"Grace-"

"Please!" Grace pleaded, her voice cracking around the edges. "Don't make me go to the doctor's!"

Kathleen hesitated. "Are you still feeling nauseous and achy?"

"No." Grace rubbed her eyes with her fists. "I just have a bit of a headache, that's all."

Kathleen nodded. "All right. If you're sure. But make sure that if you start to feel ill again you go straight to the nurse's office, okay?"

"I will," she lied again. Each lie felt worse than the last. As her mother left her room Grace looked to her closet and felt her stomach flip and flop. She hated the thought of leaving her room, let alone going to school. She'd been able to avoid everyone for a week, including Grant, who had come over every day to see her and had been shooed away by her mother, who was still blissfully ignorant of what he'd done.

Grace pushed herself out of bed and her legs felt wobbly and weak, like a table with a leg that was too short. It was a consequence of having barely moved from her bed all week except to shower and go to the bathroom. "How do I avoid him?" she asked herself as she pushed through the clothes in her closet. Of course he'd be there in the afternoon, probably at the same time that that he'd been showing up at all week. Between five-thirty and six o' clock.

She opted for her pair of gray drawstring sweatpants and pale blue poncho she'd knitted for herself a few years prior. They were loose and fairly comfortable, but most of all, they would cover everything that she wanted covered. Namely, the browning bruises. After stripping out of her nightgown and stepping into her clothes she pulled on a pair of tennis shoes, double knotted the ties, and went to the bathroom where she loosely ran a brush through her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail.

"Oatmeal's on da table," Tom announced as he passed by the bathroom with a bowl in his hands.

Grace's stomach turned. She'd only been eating soup and crackers, even though she yearned for something more filling and flavorful. But it seemed that every time she ate she would fall asleep, dream terrible things, and wake up with the need to purge her stomach. From what she remembered learning during the summer at med camp, it was reflux vomiting caused by anxiety. At that thought, her head suddenly began to swim again: med camp. "Even if I could avoid him until summer, how can I possibly avoid him at med camp?"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Ben stood in front of the calendar pinned to his wall, holding Mercy on his hip. The month read _March_ and had a picture of a cartoonish green hill, blue sky, and an oversized monarch butterfly in said sky. Monday the first through Sunday the fourteenth had big red _X_'s through them. Ben positioned the pen in Mercy's hand and guided her hand, drawing another red _X_ onto Monday the fifteenth. "Only fifty-seven more days until your birthday!" he cooed, kissing his daughter's head.

Mercy squealed and wrenched her hand free of Ben's, striking his cheek with the pen.

Ben wrinkled up his nose and snatched the pen away, dotting the tip of Mercy's nose with a red dot. Then he carried her into his bathroom and looked at the damage in the mirror: it looked like bleeding scratch. "How catty of you," he informed her, chuckling at his pun.

Mercy giggled and reached to touch the red mark on Ben's face, partially smearing the ink with her fingers.

"It looked more fierce the other way," he baulked. "Come on, you, daddy has to get ready for school." Ben capped the red pen and dropped it onto his desk before taking Mercy down the hallway to the nursery and setting her safely into her playpen. "Grandpa's going to be watching you today, okay?" He picked up the baby monitor and waved it at his daughter. "Just holler if you need him."

Ben returned to the bathroom in his bedroom and began to splash his face with warm water and some hand soap in an attempt to get the red smudge off his cheek. After a few minutes he was successful, but once he dried his face he realized his efforts had left his cheek all red. With a groan he pinched and rubbed his other cheek, attempting to get them both the same color so he didn't look quite so asymmetrical.

"Are you putting on your face?" Adrian's voice teased suddenly from the doorway. She stepped into the bathroom, her reflection appearing behind Ben's in the mirror.

"Why, do you have any tips?"

"No, but I do think a glossy shine might look better on you," Adrian said, moving around to the side of the sink and kissing Ben's cheek, leaving a reddish gloss lip print where he'd just rubbed off the ink stain.

"Like mother, like daughter," Ben grumbled. "Come here, you!" He grabbed Adrian around the waist and pulled her to his chest, kissing her lips softly.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"You know, I've had 'The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow' stuck in my head all week and now lo and behold, here you are!"

Grace was pulling her backpack out of the back passenger seat when she heard Jason's voice approaching from behind her. She quickly spun around and slid the backpack onto her back and then let her weight fall against the door until it closed. "Hi," she said, trying in vain to smile.

"You know, you have some pretty good friends," Jason said with a grin. "They haven't stopped asking me if I've heard from you all week." He leaned in a little closer. "I've been worried about you too."

"Yeah," Grace said, avoiding eye contact. "I got everyone's messages. And thanks for bringing my homework over."

"It was a group effort," Jason admitted.

"Thanks," she said again, not really knowing what else to do.

"You all right?" he asked, looking her up and down. "Every time any of us went over your mom said you were asleep."

"Yeah, I don't know, I just felt horrible all week. I can't – you wouldn't understand."

"You'd be surprised," Jason replied. "I had Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease when I was seven. I was in the hospital for a week. I don't think I've ever thrown up more in my life! I'm now a compulsive hand washer." He chuckled. "But I'm glad to have you back, Grace." He leaned in for a kiss, but Grace just turned her head away and his lips brushed against her cheek instead. He stepped back in surprise. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Grace replied quickly, shaking her head. "I – I just don't want to share what I have. It's been so nasty."

"Oh." Jason nodded, but there was a shudder in his voice that seemed like he didn't quite buy the excuse. "I understand completely. Are your mom and Tom okay?"

"They're not sick," she said quickly.

"Thank God."

Grace scoffed bitterly. "Yeah," she whispered. "Thank God."

Jason slipped his arm around her shoulders. "So can I catch you up on all the wild school gossip as I walk you to class?" he asked hopefully.

Grace resisted the urge to push Jason's arm off. The idea of being touched by anyone, even her own boyfriend, made her skin crawl. "Yeah," she muttered distantly. She raised her hand and armed her car alarm. "Sure." As they began to walk towards the school building Grace looked over her shoulder, not paying attention at all to what her boyfriend was saying, and swept the parking lot just to be sure nobody was following her.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Adrian sat hunched over at her desk in her AP English class, staring at the essay that had been given to her. She had a blue gel pen in hand and she seemed to be circling something, crossing something out, or underlining and drawing an arrow to her comments every few sentences. It felt like the mental equivalent of waiting for an online video to buffer, only for it to freeze a minute later and begin another tiresome buffering process.

The paper she was reviewing was a prime example of why she hated when teachers assigned peer review work. "If I wanted a peer review group I would've signed up for a creative writing class," she coldly muttered under her breath. The paper made her wonder how the student even got into an AP English class. "Or maybe I'm just a spelling and grammar Nazi. Feminazi?" she mused sarcastically, turning the page.

Her mind flashed back to Grace's pot smoking roommate at med camp. At one point she had suggested that maybe Dylan's parents had bought her spot into the Young Healers Camp, because neither she nor Grace could figure out how someone so unfocused had gotten in on her own merit. Adrian scribbled another correction onto the paper and wondered if maybe the writer of this paper had also wormed his way into the class with a monetary donation. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Adrian felt a tap on her shoulder and looked behind her. One of her classmates had a pile of papers that she was shoving at the Latina. With a sigh Adrian realized that the review period was over and she quickly signed her name at the bottom of the page, set the essay on the top, and carried the stack of papers up to the front of the room. The teacher gave her a bit of a scowl, but Adrian didn't let it get under her skin. The class was almost over anyway and it wasn't worth getting mad about.

"And don't forget that there will be a quiz on the readings next week!" the teacher warned. "I'm not saying when, but mark my words: there _will_ be a quiz!"

The Latina covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. The readings in the class were drier than the Mojave Desert, but the quizzes were simple enough. She stuffed her binder and books into her backpack just before the bell tore through the room. Adrian lazily stood up as the students stampeded out the door and once it was clear, save for a boy who always took twice as long as everyone else to pack up, she glided out of the door.

She made a beeline for the stairs for her next class but before she could get to the first step she did a double take and stopped in the middle of the crowd, causing someone behind her to walk into her back an d bark a few profanities at her before walking around her. "Grace!" Adrian darted in the direction of the soda machine where she saw her friend walking. The stairs were quickly abandoned in pursuit of the blonde, even though she only had less than four minutes for passing period. "Grace, hey, wait up!"

The blonde didn't stop or slow down until Adrian grabbed her shoulder and she finally stopped. "Hi."

"Hi?" Adrian echoed in disbelief. "I haven't seen you for a week and all you can say is 'hi'?"

Grace shrugged. "I haven't felt good. Hate me if you want."

Adrian blinked. "This isn't like you. What's going on?"

"Nothing." Grace turned away and began walking again.

Adrian grabbed a hold of her friend's shoulder and forcefully spun her around. "Oh hell no! You cannot seriously be this mad at me over the abortion thing. That's not fair! You've known my stance on that since last year!"

Grace looked down at her tennis shoes. "I'm not mad at you."

"The hell you're not!"

"I'm not mad!" Grace yelled.

Adrian's eyes widened and she noted how a few people had stopped to stare. She quickly flipped her hand through the air. "Rubberneck somewhere else!" she hissed before grabbing Grace by the arm and yanking her outside the double doors and over next to a metal drum trashcan. "If you're not mad, then what's with the attitude?"

"I just feel horrible," Grace replied after a long pause. "You wouldn't understand."

"I was pregnant for nine months and then gave birth. I know a thing or two about feeling horrible."

"No." Grace's reply was firm, like a boulder. "You don't. Now if you don't mind, I have a class to get to."

Adrian remained by the trashcan as her friend walked away without even so much as a goodbye. She was still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened when the bell rang and it dawned on her that she was officially late for her next class.

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"She just up and walked out on you?" Ricky asked after school. From his place at the Lees' kitchen table he could see the sky was filled with muted pinks, oranges, and lavenders. It looked like a melting Push-Up Pop.

"No rhyme or reason. She just yelled at me – ironically saying that she wasn't mad at me – and then took off. I haven't seen her since and her car wasn't in the parking lot by the time I got out after my last class."

"Has Jason seen her?"

"I spoke to him in calc. He said that he was with Grace this morning before class, but that was the last time he'd seen her."

"Was she acting strange – rude – with him?"

"Not mean, just 'distant.'"

"Something has to be wrong," Ricky said, abandoning the flashcards he was holding. "Grace is the most social person I know. It's one of her biggest strengths."

"And one of my biggest annoyances."

"Exactly. She's never acted like this before."

"Except when her father died," Adrian countered.

"But nobody's died," Ricky argued. "Tom and Mrs. Bowman are fine. You, Jason, Ben, Heather, and I all saw them at one time or another when we went to try and visit Grace over the last week."

"Maybe she lost a less personal family member?"

"Her mom said she was sick. I'm not saying she'd be above lying, but if that were the case: why lie about it?"

Adrian pushed her chair back and moved to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of ice cold milk. "Maybe I should go over to her house and try talking to her again?"

"Or I could." Ricky stood up from his seat. "I'm not grounded anymore, thanks to the grades you helped me make."

"If she won't talk to me, what makes you think she'll talk to you?"

"Nothing. I just thought that since things didn't blow over so well with her this afternoon, maybe I might get better mileage."

"I guess." Adrian downed the remainder of the milk in her cup and rinsed it out before leaving it to soak in the drainer. "I have to go over to Ben's anyway." She returned to the table and began to clean up their study notes. "If you do get anything out of her, let me know, okay?"

Ricky gave a sincere nod. "A-S-A-P."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Around six-thirty a buzzing began to stir from Grace's purse. It was propped up against a book shelf next to her backpack. Grace sat opposite the objects with her knees pulled up to her chest, also bracing herself against a book shelf. It was not just any book shelf either: it was a shelf at the Valley Glen Public Library. Specifically, the reference section. The tomes in that section were coated with fine layers of dust with occasional fingerprints on them; it was the_ last_ place anyone would look for her.

Grace reached for her purse and carefully dug out her cell phone: _1 New Message_. Her stomach constricted as she opened the text up and to her thanks, it was not a message from Grant. Instead, it was a text from her mother.

_Grace, where are you? You're never out this late! Are you ok? Grant and Ricky were over here to see you a little while ago. Call me back as soon as you get this! Love, Mom._

The blonde immediately deleted the text. She would go home before dark, but only just. There was no way she was going to risk coming face-to-face with Grant again, should he decide to drop by her house again. It was bad enough that he was on friendly talking terms with her mother anyway. She feared it was only a matter of time before he told her they were a _couple_ again. Her whole body seemed to convulse at the thought.

She reached for her backpack and retrieved her laptop from the built in laptop section in the back. The computer hummed as she opened it up, coming to life from its sleep mode. Grace punched in her password and hit the mute button so as to not draw attraction to herself and then logged onto the library's wireless connection as soon as she got the chance. Her pulse raced as she pulled up a Google search box and then dangled her fingers over home row, wondering if the library could track any searches she made back to her computer. Or if they would. Deciding to try and stay under the radar she typed in: _help for anonymous assault victims?_

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

"Finding anything you like?" Ben asked while he crawled onto his bed beside Adrian.

The Latina was sitting with her legs crossed and the Grant High 2010-2011 Course Catalogue in her lap. "I already know I'm taking AP Calc and a senior AP English course, but since I know I want to go into family law, I'm thinking it might be beneficial to take an AP Psych course too."

Ben pretended to cringe. "How can you do all that? All those advanced placement classes I mean? How do you find the time? I mean even before you were a mother, you did all those _and_ you were a majorette."

"Not to mention all of my other extracurricular activities.

Ben scowled. "Don't remind me." He laid his hand into hers. "But seriously, how do you manage?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I guess I get it from my mom. Plus I really just want to make something of myself. It may not be true for everyone, but for me: being poor and raised by a single mother gave me a drive to work so much harder than everyone else. If I had been born rich – no offence – I'm not sure I would've wanted to work so hard."

Adrian blew through a few pages and then drew her manicured tip down the page. "Maybe that AP U.S. Government and Politics class too?" she asked rhetorically. "I think that would be good college prep for a lawyer, don't you think?"

"Do they have an AP BS class? Because I think that would be _ideal_ college prep for a lawyer, don't you?"

Adrian slugged Ben in the shin and then tackled him onto his back on the bed. "You know what I would like to take?"

"Hm?"

"AP BB."

"BB?" Ben asked.

"Advanced Placement in Ben Boykewich."

Ben traced her full, shiny lips with his long finger. "Been there, done that. Although I'm not opposed to a refresher course." As he lifted his head to kiss her, Adrian's cell phone began to ring. He grunted. "Ignore it."

"I can't," Adrian sighed, pushing off her boyfriend. "It's Ricky."

"Really?" Ben replied. "You're choosing Ricky over me?"

Adrian hit his arm as she retrieved her cell phone. "Hey, how is she?"

Ben sat up and cocked his head, straining to hear Ricky's side of the conversation to no avail.

"Did you call her?"

"Grace?" Ben whispered.

Adrian waved her hand to silence the sixteen-year-old. "You did? He was there when I went to see her last week, too."

"Who?" Ben whispered again.

Adrian glared and covered Ben's mouth with her hand. "Yeah, I appreciate it. I'll talk to you later." She dropped her phone back into her purse and pulled her hand away from her boyfriend's lips.

"I take it she wasn't home?"

"No and her mother had no idea where she was."

"That's not like-"

"That's what Ricky and I have been saying." Adrian scrubbed her forehead with her nails. "But the weirdest part is that Ricky said he saw Grant over there again."

"Grant?" Ben pressed his finger to his lips. "Maybe you've got this all wrong."

"How do you mean?"

"You've been thinking Grace has been avoiding _us_. All of us. But what if she's just avoiding _him_?"

Adrian covered her mouth. "You think he's stalking her? It's been months and this is only the first of her acting like this. Why now?"

Ben lifted his shoulders up and down. "It's just a thought. But I mean: it's weird, right? Her behavior and now two sightings of him at her house?"

"And at her church," Adrian realized with alarm. "And he was freakishly possessive of her even when they were dating. He wanted her to spend practically _all_ her time with him."

"Not to mention the jealous rage at the Halloween party," Ben reminded her.

"And wanting to switch schools just to keep an eye on her."

"But if he's stalking her and she knows it, why wouldn't she say anything?"

"Do you think he could've threatened her?" Adrian asked. "Lentz threatened me. Different situation and different power dynamics, but…it's possible, right?"

"I think we need to find Grace and get her to talk to us before we go jumping to any conclusions." Ben took Adrian's hand again. "You want to drive over there tonight? We could wait in front of her house until she gets home."

Adrian nodded. "I think that's a good idea."

Ben pulled Adrian to his chest, hugging her tightly. "Then that's what we're gonna do."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

Around twelve hours later Adrian's eyes jolted open as a tremor charged through her cheek and a hollow rapping penetrated her right eardrum. Her mind raced to catch up with her situation: black leather, icy glass, and Ben's warm but heavy head on her shoulder. Suddenly all the memories from the night before came rushing back to her: talking with Ricky on the phone, driving over to Grace's with Ben, and waiting all night long to see Grace's Prius pull into the Bowmans' driveway. But it never came.

"Adrian?"

Adrian whipped her head around and accidentally smacked her nose against the glass of her driver's side window. She realized suddenly how cold it was inside the car and how the sky had turned from black to pale blue. Adrian quickly rolled down the window. "Mrs. Bowman?" she asked, shivering as the morning air snaked in and nipped at her skin.

"Is Grace with you?"

Adrian shook her head. "You mean she didn't come home last night?"

Kathleen shook her head. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and was hugging the ends together to protect her from the frosty snap of the early morning. "I waited on the couch for her until I fell asleep. I just woke up and went to check on her and found her bed empty."

Adrian angled her palm against Ben's shoulder and gently rocked him. "Ben, Ben, wake up!"

Ben stirred, hissed a little, then yawned and allowed his eyes to flicker open. "Adrian," he whined sleepily.

"Ben, get up!" Adrian urged, rocking him against with her palm. "Grace never came home last night."

The words sunk into the very pores of his skin and it didn't take long before Ben realized the implications of what they meant. His eyes snapped wide. "Grace _what?_"

Meanwhile, Adrian was already reaching for her cell phone. She activated the speaker function, but the call was immediately directed to Grace's voicemail, without even so much as a single ring. "Either it's dead or she turned it off."

"Or _someone_ turned it off," Ben replied, grabbing the door handle and pulling himself upright in his seat. His face was all read with the imprint of Adrian's sleeve burned into the left side of his face.

"Do you know something I don't?" Kathleen asked. The milky whites of her eyes were streaked with blood colored zigzags.

Ben and Adrian exchanged concerned expressions. "We have no proof," the latter replied slowly. "But…has Grant been around a lot lately?"

"Grant? Why, what does he have to do with anything?"

Adrian calmly picked up her purse. "Would you mind if we went inside to talk?"

Kathleen looked warily over both her shoulders before nodding. "Of course. Come on!"

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

A Word of the Day Calendar sat on the kitchen counter. The current date read _March 18_ and the word was _transmogrify_. Carrie Costigan, Vic Volberg, and their son Grant entered, followed up by two police officers. Carrie moved behind the counter as her husband, son, and the officers moved to the kitchen table and took seats.

The broad shouldered, African-American officer set a notepad onto the table and pressed the tip of his pen to the paper. The label on the breast of his uniform read: _Morgan_. "When did you last see Grace Bowman?" he asked, cutting to the chase.

"I haven't seen her since last week. March eighth."

"You seem pretty sure about the date," the officer commented as he made a note onto his paper. "Why is that?"

"That was the day Grace and I got back together," Grant calmly explained. "Grace is my girlfriend."

The second officer, an African-American woman who sat a few inches taller than her partner whose uniform declared her last name as _Parks_, raised her eyebrow at the comment. "Her boyfriend?" she asked for clarification. At Grant's nod she looked at her partner. "We spoke to another young man, Jason Treacy, who also claims to be her boyfriend. Are you telling us Grace was seeing both of you simultaneously?"

"No," Grant replied, vehemently shaking his head. "Grace and I broke up in November and she began dating Jason on the rebound. But we reconnected last week, Sunday, at her church, when I brought some donations for her New Lease on Life Drive. We spoke again at her house on Monday, the eighth, and she confessed how she really didn't want to be with Jason; how she wanted me back."

"And did she tell this to Jason?"

"I don't know. We – we got a little carried away that afternoon."

"Carried away _how?_" Officer Parks asked.

Grant smiled sheepishly. "We had sex."

The officers looked at one another suspiciously. Officer Morgan opened his mouth: "According to her mother, Grace runs the youth abstinence group at her church."

"I know," Grant nodded. "My cousin and I attended a speech she gave in October."

"Then can you tell us why Grace would suddenly decide to have sex with you?" Officer Parks questioned.

"With all do respect, teenagers do this all the time," Carrie interrupted. "Just because a teen promises to not have sex before marriage doesn't mean they will."

"My wife's right," Vic interjected. "There's all kinds of pressures in the world. Peer pressure will get children to do things they never would have thought to do before."

"So you think Grace was pressured?" Officer Parks asked immediately.

"I resent your attempt to twist my words, ma'am. I said that peer pressure is _one_ factor. Kids will be kids. No matter how many times they say one thing, they usually do another. And sometimes they just get caught up in the moment and make mistakes. It's disappointing, of course, but I have made some very poor mistakes in my time too." He pressed his fist to his mouth and coughed sharply. "We're only human."

"Mr. Volberg," Officer Morgan frowned. "While I understand your position here, I must ask you to please let us conduct our interview without interruption. We need to find out_ exactly_ what transpired between Grace and Grant."

"To answer your question: Grace and I love each other. That's why we had sex. I can see my future with her."

"Do you know why she was out of school for the next week?"

"I never spoke to Grace personally, but her mother told me that she was sick in bed." Grant looked down at the table and pressed his hand to his forehead. "I can't say for sure, but I'm afraid she might have felt guilty and ashamed about what we'd done."

"And why would that be?"

"Because as you said: Grace is a very religious person and a staunch believer in sex after marriage. Although it felt right at the time, I think she may have felt like she let God down afterwards and that's why she was 'sick.'"

"And you have no idea where Grace might be now?"

"No."

"You haven't spoken with her or seen her?"

"My son already said the last time he saw Miss Bowman was last week," Vic said sternly. "If you're going to continue to ask the same questions that have already been answered, then I believe this interview is over."

The officers looked at each other for a beat of uncomfortable silence and then quietly rose from their seats. "Thank, Mr. Volberg, Mrs. Costigan. We appreciate your support in allowing us to speak with your son and we'll be in touch."

"Please find Grace soon," Grant said, also rising from his seat and offering his hand to the officers. "She means everything to me."

**TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT**

A pink Susan G. Komen luggage case sat on the floor of the front passenger seat of Grace's Prius. A purse, a cell phone, a bulging white cash envelope from a bank, and an unfolded map of California sat in the seat itself. Grace's hands were on the wheel. She tipped her head back slightly, peering into the rearview mirror. In the back seat were two bloated white trash bags. She returned her eyes to the road and in the distance she could see the Golden Gate Bridge approaching.


End file.
